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Sunday, 30 January 2011

The Internet

*Pete is; writing a blog on Internet... LOLOLOLOL!*

My name is Peter Neil Smith and I am an Internet Addict.

I managed to resist joining Facebook for a long while (I'd never even heard of 'farmville' until about a year ago) but eventually, it got me. I just needed to ask a couple of people some questions about tour dates. They hadn't replied to my emails, so I signed up to Facebook to ask them and (as is the way with most addictions) it soon spiralled out of control leaving me hopelessly dependent. Even now as I type, I have a Facebook tab open in my browser and every ten or twelve seconds my eyes flicker over to it to see if I've got any notifications... Someone, anyone, PLEASE SAY SOMETHING TO ME AND DISTRACT ME FROM THE REAL WORLD. But the Internet is a cruel mistress and I, alas, have very few friends. Oooh wait, I've got one....

It's gotten so bad that even when I step away from the computer, I'm on Facebook. For some fucking reason I set up text notifications to my phone (how fucking needy is that?!) So now when I get an FB message, my phone gets it too. This has led to me having 74 unread text messages on my phone at the moment.

*Pete is; going to get a cup of tea*

I 'm currently temping in an office, unfortunately this has enabled my addiction even more. I am now CONSTANTLY online and checking my Facebook and Gmail... no, still nothing? Ok... do some work... wait, check again.... no.... still nothing... Maybe there's something interesting on punktastic? No? hmmmm....

*Pete is; Yawning. I. AM. TIRED.*

Luckily enough for me, the only (work proof) sites I use are Facebook, Gmail, PT, BBC Football and this fucking blog. I'm too terrified to join/visit anymore in case I attempt a real life recreation of the film 'Lawnmower Man' by simply smashing my face into my monitor over and over and over and over and over and over and over until the Internet 'absorbs me'.

But therein lies my problem with the Internet, there isn't a lot on here... What else am I really supposed to do with it? I don't have my own computer at the moment (FUCK YOU LS6 BURGLARS) So I don't bother looking around for new bands anymore. I don't care about any opinions other than mine, so I don't read blogs. I don't care deeply enough about anything to subscribe to a mailing list or visit any sites. I've got my own cat, so I don't need to watch 'funny' videos of yours on YouTube and I'm not really fucked what you or Steven Fry had for breakfast, so that's Twitter out...

*Pete is; Going to get another tea. 4 so far today!*

The problem is, I'm not alone... It's spreading. Every time I leave the house I see more and more people on the Internet on their phones. I was at a gig a couple of weeks ago and some fucking mouth breather next to me was updating their Twitter while watching a band, '*** are incredible!' Oh really? THAT incredible that you aren't even watching them? I really think pubs should start being phone free zones. There's been many occasions recently when I've been out and I've looked over to the next table and all the people sat there are on the Internet on their fucking phones rather than talking to each other. If you're going to do that, stay in, surely?

The worst part is, I moan about it, but I do it too. Every time I'm confronted with a social situation that I don't like, I dig my phone out and get on the Internet. If my girlfriend or Jay (potato/potato) is talking to someone I don't know, rather than attempting to join in the conversation, I pull out my phone and go on the Internet. I will happily admit that that is fucking lame. I know it is when I do it and I know there won't be anything good on there, but I can't help myself.

I think it's just a measure of how pathetic I've become recently. On the Internet I crave attention. Comments, posts, messages, tags, fucking anything... SOMEONE TALK TO ME. But when it comes to actual real life, I can't be bothered with it. The fucking Internet has ruined my life!

*Pete is; going to take a radio to bathe with me, plugggggged in and readdddyyy to falllllllll*

Long Hair + Headbanging = Your gross hair in my face

Picture the scene...a grotty venue that was probably filled over capacity, with everybody awkwardly crammed into a small dark sweatbox watching some live bands. I was watching "The Crapsons" AKA Pulled Apart By Horses , which to clear up is not me saying they were crap, they were awesome...it was just a pseudo name they were using (plus I'd like to think I could think of a better insult than "The Crapsons" if I were to insult a band!), when I began to feel something awful banging against my neck to the rhythm of the music. As I turned around to investigate what this was I was slapped in the mouth by some guys unwashed, sweaty, split ended monstrosity of unwashed hair. This left behind a sweaty residue, which until I washed it off felt like somebody had rubbed their armpit on my face! I turned around and tried to forget about it, but the hair was actually coming over the top of my head and into my view. At one point the hair was actually sitting on top of my head like some kind of vile merkin, REVOLTING! This relentless hair whipping continued throughout the set, which left me dreading any kind of riff that "The Crapsons" were playing due to the inevitable headbanging sweaty long hair assault on my face! It was like a human version of that scene in Beethoven where the dog ruins the house and shakes his fur in slow motion, projectile spraying strands of slobber, snot and dog shit all over the room.

I'm not some square that hates any kind of movement at gigs, but having a sweaty mop thrust in my face is not cool. At least condition those frazzled locks, I've got that itchy feeling like I've been sitting on cut grass or I've just had a fresh haircut. You might as well drop your pants and rub your pubic hair on my face, this is the same level of disgusting! Today will be spent sitting under a hot shower, rocking back and forth muttering "clean......cleannnnn" whilst obsessively scrubbing away the remnants of your ratty hair...thanks a lot!

Friday, 28 January 2011

Male Pattern Baldness

Everyone takes after their parents, you are a product of their gene pools. Some people are more their Mum, some are more their Dad, I take after my Dad. My Dad's side of the family is a strange mix of English, Portuguese and Indian which has led to all the males in the family sharing several similar traits. 1) We are all 'Olive skinned' whilst this means we don't need fake tan, it also meant that i was called a 'paki' in primary school (HA! Nice one JAMES WATTS FROM SWINDON). 2) We fucking love a good nap, and 3) We all lose our hair at an early age.

Even worse for me, is that the age where the hair falls out seems to be getting lower and lower, so much so that I have been covering up my shiny forehead with a comb over since the age of 18. Honestly, it fucking SUCKS. You have no idea how depressing it is to have your hair start falling out before you even leave home. This is how I know there is no god!

So, for several years, I tried a comb over. I tried (and failed) to cover my head with a big fringe. On top of that I've tried 'hair regeneration shampoo'... it does nothing. I even once went into a herbal remedies place to ask if they could help. I was told by a hugely enthusiastic Chinese man that he would 'Hit head with hammer' over and over, while he waved this little spike ended hammer in my face. I left without trying it.

Even my Mum has got in on the act. She called me at nine this morning to ask my address as she had been into Lush and got me some sort of soap bar thing that might help my hair look 'thicker'. Thanks Mum.

I realise things like this happen to everyone, it's just getting old, but fuck that. I'm already old and miserable enough on the inside, I don't want to look it on the outside too. There are some people that can pull of shaved heads, I am not one of them. With my hair short I look just like Karl Pilkington, Honestly. Not having a bit on hair on the front of my head draws attention to how bulbous it is. It's massive and perfectly round, like if you drew a sad face on a snooker ball.

So now I'm left with two options. I could either man up and live with it, or be one of those sad losers that never leaves the house without a hat on...Great. THANKS LIFE.

Sunday, 23 January 2011

Lens-less Glasses

Did I miss the memo? Why are people wearing glasses when they have 20-20 vision? Oh....it's fashionable (REALLY?)! Lens-less glasses are apparently "in" at the moment, a fact which both baffles and angers me. I know that the fashion world is a strange and confusing place, but immitating somebody with poor eyesight for the sake of style is insane! These are surely the most contrived fashion accessories available, and they serve about as much purpose as a condom machine in the Vatican!

It just puzzles me as to why somebody would want to copy the style of those that have the misfortune of having poor eyesight. Since when have physical afflictions been fashionable What next? Will crippled legs be in fashion next season? Should I walk about on some Louis Vutton crutches? Maybe that old trendsetter Proffesor Stephen Hawkings will become fashionable, and we'll all roll around in Fred Perry wheelchairs controlled by our mouths, talking with an artificial voicebox and bathing in our own excrement?

I know that it's wrong to assume that somebody is intelligent because they are wearing glasses, but this is a stigma that is absurdly attatched to the optically challenged. If the lens-less glasses wearer is attempting to make themselves look more intelligent, then they have tragically failed. If you're so clever then protect yourself against my fingers poking you in the eyes through your ineffective, unprotected idiot goggles!

If you are visually impaired and legitimately need to wear glasses, then I fully advocate your right to buy stylish frames....go nuts! Basically unless you're Superman and the glasses are merely part of the disguise of your alter ego, take those fucking ridiculous things off! You look like a pastiche of a cheap fancy dress pensioner costume!

Wednesday, 19 January 2011


Clairvoyants are truly shameless individuals that fraudulently claim that they possess extra sensory paranormal abilities, and are able to contact the "spirit world" and communicate with the dead. They use their amazing abilities to extort money from those so desperate to believe that their dead loved ones are happy on "the other side", that they will blindly pay these narcissists to communicate with their own insane minds and falsely tell them exactly what they want to hear. I have nothing but hatred for these pathetic charlatans, and these are my top reasons for hoping that these con artists find out what "the other side" (6 feet under) is really like as soon as possible;

  • Providing false hope to vulnerable people and telling them what they want to hear- Nearly 100% of the people that visit clairvoyants are those that have experienced a tragic loss, and are so desperate to believe that their loved ones still exist that they abandon all sense and logic and put their trust in the empty words of a fraudster. When is the last time you saw a "medium" tell a grieving widow that her dead husband hated her, fucked all of her friends, gave her a symptomless sexually transmitted disease and pissed in her kettle? Answer: NEVER! These scam artists will ingenuously tell the grieving wife exactly what she wants to hear, without facing any scrutiny due to the wife wanting to believe them and live in ignorant bliss.
  • Inability to explain the "spirit world"- Conveniently these "mediums" are never able to coherently explain how the "spirit world" (notice the quotations...I refuse to acknowledge this as as a legitimate place!) works, and often make excuses as to why they can't perform readings on demand by claiming "that's not how it works. Well how does it work? Go on, try and explain it? What are the logistics and method that you use to selectively isolate an individual "spirit" and communicate with it? Is it like a ghost phone book? Tell me how this magic trick works!!!
  • Cold reading- This is the most commonly used method of creating the illusion that the clairvoyant has a psychic ability, but is fundamentally just a guessing game. Cold reading is always performed in front of a large crowd, as the chance of the medium getting a"hit" is significantly increased if there are more participants. The clairvoyant starts with a broad statement that could apply to a variety of people, objects, animals, places etc in the hope that somebody will take the bait and claim it. This will generally be a statement like "I'm getting a G......I'm getting a George (no reaction)....no it's a Gary....(no reaction)....Gabrielle?" If nobody claims the name, they will quickly move on to another random name...completing ignoring the fact that they have been wrong several times. Once somebody has claimed this vague statement, the medium will elaborate on this point and feign insight into the person's situation. This insight is based upon factors such as body language, gender and age....for example if the subject was elderly it would be obvious to assume that George could be her dead husband....or if the subject was young you could assume that George was their dead father. The medium then makes high probability guesses as to the significance of the statement to the victim, and judges by their reactions whether or not their guess was correct. If the guess was relevant to the subject, they will reaffirm their chance statement by elaborating on it slightly....thus creating the illusion that they are in contact with the dead. Clairvoyants rely entirely on the audience for this laughable method of hit and miss tactics, which in my eyes proves that they lack any psychic ability due to the overwhelming amount of misses.
  • Celebrity mediums- In recent years there have been an increase of clairvoyant TV personalities appearing on our screens like terrifying apparitions on obscure Sky/Freeview channels that I can't imagine anybody watches. Whether its Derek Acorah having his body inhabited by the spirit of Michael Jackson (yes this genuinely happened, check out the video at the bottom!), John Edwards "the king of the cold reading" miraculously communicating with an audiences dead relatives (on a heavily edited show that doesn't include his failed attempts) or those depressing 4am "psychic live" call in shows....the supernatural is fairly popular. These TV personalities are predictably some of the most narcissistic, twisted individuals imaginable, which begs the question...If spirits did exist, why the fuck would they choose to channel themsleves through these fucking cretins? These TV personalities act like gods, when in reality they are just disgraceful con artists that have forged a career out of exploiting the tragedies of those around them. These pathetic bastards use the misery of others to feed their ego's, unconcerned about the feelings of their victims that they are lying to. They are constantly defensive about their abilities, and refuse to accept criticism and scrutiny from anybody that doubts them....and will always refuse to demonstrate their "gift" under examination.
  • The fact that it can't be legitimately proven that they aren't psychic- Irritatingly it is impossible to disprove what you can't see, a fact that religions have been relying on for years. You could say that this ruins my argument that all clairvoyants are charlatans, but I disagree. The reason that it is not scientifically possible to disprove the paranormal is the fact that their are no available scientific methods to measure something that does not physically exist. I think this speaks for itself....it does not physically fucking exist. Don't get all 6th form philosophy student on me and say something like "just because something doesn't physically exist it doesn't mean that it doesn't exist"....yes it does. IT DOES NOT PHYSICALLY EXIST! In the modern world we have no place for the immeasurable, yet we can't...and depressingly never will be able to negate superstition. This will allow these lunatics to continue their beguiling practices, unhindered forever.

I can't decide whether or not the all of individuals that claim to have "the gift" are exploitative con artists, or if they genuinely believe that they have powers. I would assume that the majority of them are aware that they have no powers, but feign psychic ability profit off their victims. If an individual genuinely believes that they have this unique ability, I would be severely worried about their mental state. I have always wondered what would happen if a clairvoyant was given medicine used to treat schizophrenia, would the voices stop?

Some people will probably argue that giving kind reassurances to grieving people is not necessarily a bad thing, but again I disagree. They are not only lying to incredibly vulnerable, susceptible people...but they are slowing the progress of humanity. I'm not going to lie, I'm an Atheist so I am biased on the subject of the paranormal....but if there is something that exists after we die (which I 100% doubt) then surely lying about it for personal gain is counter productive to humanity?

Clairvoyants are amongst the most shameless vultures on the planet, and should be ashamed of their disgusting exploitation of the vulnerable. If the spirit world does exist I hope that when they die they are forced to spend eternity in a small space with Jade Goodey and the Birdie song stuck on an endless loop....urgh!

Monday, 17 January 2011

Shit Philosophy + Shit Graffiti = SHIT CUNT.

I've been temping in an office in town for the last couple of days, which means I now have a walk to work. My walk takes me down a back street of Brighton City Centre that is covered in graffiti, some good and some shit but all, none the less, of a really high quality. Kudos vandals. But as I was walking, appreciating the hours of work that must have gone into the ten metre tall portrait of Marvin Gaye, my eye was drawn to a previously blank wall which has now been daubed with the sentence 'OUR GREAT WAR IS A SPIRITUAL WAR, OUR GREAT DEPRESSION IS OUR LIVES...' Eurgh.... What the fuck is the point.

Judging by the hand writing, the perpetrator could have been no older than 18. No doubt he had recently come out out of his first philosophy lecture with his mind suitably 'blown' and with the general feeling that they have seen 'the light' So what did this person do? Well, they wanted to spread the message. They wanted someone, anyone, to know that while we all stumble blindly along to our horrific office jobs, working for 'the man', THEY were not going to take it anymore. They knew better. There was another way. There IS another way. And what better way to show that to people than to scrawl some graffiti on a wall they walk past every day? But what to choose? Kierkegaard? Nietzsche? Kafka? Wait... FIGHT CLUB!!! YEAH!! FUCK THE MAN!! FUCK THE SYSTEM!!!

Eurgh... Why do people do things like this??? It does NOTHING, it is as fucking pointless as seeing how far you can push your finger into your nose. It achieves nothing, except making you look like a fucking doyle. I realise this is quite an obscure thing to hate, but I keep coming across it. Last time we were on tour we decided to take a detour through Luxembourg as we only had a short drive and none of us has ever been there before. I loved it, it was really historic and scenic, we walked around the old part and then up the hills to the new town. On the way we passed through a sort of corridor that was filled with really old statues, it was fucking rad. Then, as we got to the end of it we noticed this painted on the wall


Ohhhh, fucking do one you prick. What is the point in that, really? What do you think is going to happen? People will read that and think... 'Woah... you know... He's right! We should start listening to people in pain' To whoever wrote that; you are a fucking cretin. If you really want to make a difference, go and do some volunteering or sell all your things and give the money to charity. Anything, literally ANYTHING is better than spraying that shit on the side of a wall. What the FUCK were you thinking?

Another good one I saw was stencilled on a bench in Leeds, it simply said 'AT SOME POINT IN THIS CONVERSATION, ONE OF YOU WILL LIE' Nice one... I mean, your probably right, so at least your vandalism is more relevant than my previous two examples. So people sometimes tell lies, you worked it out, well done. Maybe go write your term paper on it or something like that? ANYTHING but painting it on a bench.

The most inane piece of 'street art' I've seen was in Bristol on the side of a venue, in early 2000. It read 'YOU'VE HAD YOUR MILLENNIUM, THIS ONE'S OURS' and the 'A' in 'HAD' was an anarchy sign... What the fuck does that even mean?! Punks are going to come back and take over the world? Smash the state and bring down the police? Abolish money and possessions? Ooooohhh... terrifying. If there's one thing I'm not afraid of, it's a fucking punx revolution. The useless cunts are still fighting Thatcher, by the time they reach 2010 the second ice age would have hit.

Really, what do these idiots think is going to happen when people see these scrawled message on the wall? Are we supposed stop and think? Muse on the ifs and buts of our existence? Stand there and applaud? Bow down in the street at their intelligent insights into the modern world? Or should we just blow our fucking brains out because they're shown us life has no meaning?


Saturday, 15 January 2011

Self Checkouts

I fucking hate going to supermarkets. Being surrounded by so many morons in such a small space is torture. Honestly, I fucking dread it. So when supermarkets started using 'self checkouts' I was fully behind the idea. I would no longer have to stand in a line surrounded by the dregs of society, listening to them moan about their disgusting lives. Only to then be greeted by a checkout workers forced smile and having my shopping hurled down the till to me as I hurriedly try to ram it in plastic bags...

Unfortunately, self service check outs are one of the worst inventions in history. They never ever fucking work.

Do you have your own bag? Yes.
Place bag in bagging area. OK.
ERROR, UNKNOWN WEIGHT IN BAGGING AREA. Wait, what? No, that's my bag
The Assistant is coming...

So you wait for the assistant to show up, unfortunately all the machines are dog shit so you have to wait a while... After he finally arrives he scans a little scrap of paper and enters his code. Then he re-enters his code. And then RE-re-enters his code... Eventually you're back on track.

Scan first item. OK.
Place item in bagging area. No problem.
The Assistant is coming... What? Why??

So the prick bumbles along and fixes it again.

Scan next item. Eurgh... ok.
Place item in bagging area. If you say so...
The Assistant is coming... OH FUCK OFF!!!!

I realise that when you roll out new technology, there will always be problems. But fucking hell... These things are an absolute nightmare. The real ballache with it is that these monstrosities have replaced the 'ten items or less' lanes. So now when you go into a super market to get a few things, you either have to queue for a fucking year behind people with a trolley of food, or deal use these useless pieces of shit... FUCK. YOU.

Wednesday, 12 January 2011

Wacky T Shirts

Since I can remember there have been endless market stalls, magazine advertisements and crappy websites that sell these types of T shirts to those so devoid of personality that they need a charisma boost in the form of a wacky slogan/design. The idiots that buy this tacky shit then parade these t-shirts about with a self satisfied smirk as if they are somehow bringing laughter to the masses, but in reality just look like 13 year old mosher kids. These are my top reasons for hating these shirts;

The jokes are NEVER funny- "Sorry, my dog ate your number"....ha. Well that was fun, got any other jokes? Oh....you're wearing it. This joke/slogan may produce a 1 second chuckle from the person reading it, but after this miniscule laugh is over the wacky shirt wearer is stuck wearing an already stale joke like a badge of idiocy.
Uninventive designs- The majority of these shitty designs involve an established brand logo with slightly altered design or wording (with hilarious effect....) such as Ipood, FECK The Irish Connection, Cocaine Cola, Dadisas (I just came up with that one!) etc. It is so easy to think of design ideas that will probably feature on a wacky t-shirt one day. Here are a few that I've come up with in about 2 seconds; Norks and Spampurse (Marks and Spencers), Crackdonalds (although I'd bet my life this has already been done), Bugger King, Weebok blah blah blah! Maybe I should stop pursuing a career in IT and start a business shifting novelty shirts to morons!!

  • The people that wear them- Unless they are a teenager that has recieved one of thse monstrosities as a present from a "cool" Aunty, they are the types that would probably be desribed by their work colleagues as "well random", they'l probably have downloaded the "crazy frog" ringtone and probably still regularly do Fast Show and Harry Enfield impressions. They'l probably greet you with an Ali G voice, probably know all of the words to the songs in the Mighty Boosh, probably recite irritating jingles from adverts at you and probably secretely wish they didn't have to be so overtly wacky to try and forge connections with other humans.
  • "The penguins are slowly stealing my sanity"- WTF LOL that is well random! These types of slogans are probably the worst, and are generally favoured by teenagers going through an awkward "alternative" phase. These t-shirts are so "out there" and totally krazee (crazy with a k, I'm mad....I've gone beyond!) that you could write any old incoherent nonsense on them yet idiots will still buy them. What exactly is the desired effect of wearing a nonsensicle statement like this? "The gnomes are silently plotting their revenge"...this isn't funny! You just look like a paranoid schizophrenic!
Wearing a novelty t-shirt has the directly opposite effect on me than desired by the person wearing it. I'm not laughing with you, I'm not even laughing at you....I just know that we will probably not get on! I'm not the type of person that will instantly make judgements on people according to their attire (well we all do to some extent!), but in the case of novelty slogan shirts I make an exception! You are not funny....now take that embarassment off and conform to the laws of fashion like the rest of us sheep you wacky bastard!

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

Anne Robinson (The Weakest Link)

Anne Robinson, the self proclaimed "queen of mean" is one of my most hated TV personalities. Whether this decrepit old mummy is incessantly complaining about consumer standards on "Watchdog", or unimaginatively insulting the contestants on "The Weakest Link" she consistantly manages to leave me feeling irritated that I am unable to jump into the TV screen and bring her down a peg or two!

If you are a unfortunate enough to be a contestant on "The Weakest Link" and happen to have a funny name, unusual voice, slightly flat chest, hair style or anything that makes you stand out in any way....Anne Robinson will hungrily pounce on this and desperately squeeze as many sub par insults as possible out of it. This requires absoloutely no intelligence or wit, and her affront remarks resemble those that you would hear from a petty school bully. If this isn't bad enough, the contestants are subjected to further humiliation by this stone faced old hag as she forces them to sing/dance and generally make fools out of themselves on national TV (something which she unintentionally does on a daily basis). This is a blatant exercise in inflicting embarrassment on her hapless contestants, which often makes for some incredibly uncomfortable viewing.

What I find particularly annoying about all of this is the fact that if a contestant were to insult her in the same blatant style that she insults their flaws and inadequacies, there would be so many things that they could use against her. Ginger hair (sorry freckles), a history of alcohol abuse and the fact that she is essentially a wolf that has been drastically stretched, snipped and stapled into sheeps clothing could be mercilessly used against her, which I doubt she would enjoy!

I understand that her pantomime esque villain persona is probably exaggerated for the sake of entertainment, but I still find it to be callous and insensitive. I'm just waiting for the day that somebody wipes that shit eating grin off her mouth by retorting to one of her indignant snubs and pointing out the fact that without a regular supply of botox, her face would collapse in on itself and resemble a geriatrics scrotum attatched to a ghoulish plastic cadaver!

Friday, 7 January 2011


I fucking love eating meat. Pulled pork, burnt ends, steaks, ribs, legs of lamb, belly pork, guinea foul, pheasant, we eat it all in our house and it's the fucking tits... Wait, what's that? Oli Sykes says you should be a vegetarian?! FUCK, why did no-one tell me sooner!

I can't believe I've been eating meat... I mean, I knew it was dead stuff, but I didn't know it was KILLED by someone?! WHY DID NO-ONE TELL ME THIS BEFORE?!?!!!!

Fuck off PETA, you fucking cunts.

I was a vegetarian for around four years. I'd just moved out of home (where vegetarian was a dirty word) I was living with a Veggie and I stopped eating meat for sake of convenience. It was alright. I began to cook more things, eat more veg. But alas, as is the way with 18 year olds, I took it a little far. I noticed that pretty much everyone around me was a vegetarian and I got a bit 'right on' about it. I put a shitty 'anti-carnivore' sticker on my shitty guitar and I put a little sign on the freezer of our flat that had chicks saying 'we are not nuggets' (though I mostly did this just to annoy Phil from Omerta). It was just what you did, you moved out of home, joined a three chord punk band and went vegetarian... Dark days. Eventually I gave it up for a Christmas dinner and it was the best meal of my life.

I have nothing against many vegetarians, a lot of my best friends are vegetarian or vegan and that is fair enough, good for you. But what I hate is preaching fucking 'shove it down your throat' vegetarians, take a bow PETA. The problem is, PETA really do think that they are better than everyone else. They believe their opinion is the right one (and who doesn't) but the important difference is that they are totally against hearing anyone else's point of view. They believe that they are correct and it is up to them to change the world. If you go on their web page you can look for 'Activist resources' and get leaflets to hand out in and effort to 'educate members of the public'

FUCK OFF YOU ARROGANT CUNTS. OK, the general public are fucking stupid I admit, but I'm sure that everyone who eats meat realises that it's a dead animal. They don't need to be 'educated' And nowhere does this anti-meateater bullshit happen more than in the 'punk' community. I fucking hate going to gigs, going to look at merch and seeing there is a PETA table next to it with some hippy behind it acting self righteous and playing videos on their laptop of pigs being strung up and killed. Fucking Propagandhi was the worst. Between that, the amnesty stand and the 'ethical' merch* being shoved in your face, they have to be the most up themselves band I've ever played with.

OK prick, think; you're doing this at a 'punk' show... What's the point?! I'd say 90% of punks are/have been veggie or vegan. You're flogging a dead horse (don't worry PETA, there's not really a dead horse, you don't need to make a You Tube advert about it) If you really care about this, go to the streets, go to village markets or stand outside butchers and hand out your propaganda. If you really cared about changing peoples minds rather than looking cool, that would surely be better, right?

And that's what it boils down to, PETA isn't a fucking activist group, it's a fashion statement. Getting bands like Bring me the Horizon, or Rise Against, or Paramore to make videos of themselves talking about how cool it is to be vegetarian is awful. What PETA is hoping for is 13/14 year olds will run to their parents and say 'Mum/Dad, I'm a vegetarian' What a fucking waste of time. By making vegetarianism a cool and sexy thing, you've made it a fad. When these same kids grow up and think 'fuck me, BMTH are awful, what was I doing?!' they will also give up being veggie. You did NOTHING to put a serious message in their mind about eating meat.

Like all choices in life, what people need is information from both sides to make an informed decision. They don't need shock videos of pigs being herded into an industrial mixer, bird's beaks being cut off and small baby cows being tied down, whilst being told 'THIS IS HOW ALL MEAT IS PRODUCED' Because eventually when they grow up they will realise that there are ethical, local farms that slaughter humanly and that Oli Sykes lied to them, they will realise you are full of shit.

I know that when I eat meat, what I'm doing is eating the carcass of a small defenseless animal that used to frolic free in the fields with Bambie and Thumper. Running from copse to copse playing '1,2,3 and in' with the other animals of farthing wood until some mean red-neck hunter came along and kicked it to death. I know that PETA and I'm sorry to say I just don't fucking care.

Well done Alicia Silverstone, you can now add 'vegetarian' to your already sizable list of life achievements.

*Also, on the point of 'ethical merch' My old band tried to order our shirts from the same place as Propagandhi (not my choice) it was a working mums co-op in the US. We were told they were out of black shirts in Small and Medium and wouldn't have any for another three months... GOOD MERCH.

Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Ska Punk.

I remember when I was 13, I joined a band with some older dudes and met all the 'cool' kids in my two bit home town. Being 13 and hanging out with people in their eary/mid 20's was weird, I suddenly thought I was REALLY cool and sneaking into Level Three on a Saturday night, was the fucking tits. The draw back of this was that I got into some really, really awful bands. If the cool kids liked a band, I liked them too and Swindon fucking LOVED ska punk. Four Foot Fingers would sell out 250 capacity venues... it was nuts. I remember being played Spunge (I'm not putting your fucking name in brackets) for the first time at my friends house and thinking 'Wow! They're covering Bob Marley?! FUCKING ACE' ...oh the folly of youth.

Luckily, my Dad hated me listening to that sort of music and for my 15th birthday he brought me 'Rocket to Russia' and 'Next Years Model' so bit by bit, I snapped out of it. By the time I was at College I was in the much cooler 'I wish I was Matt Skiba' stage (And now I wish I was Dan Andriano).

But not content with being 'yesterdays news' Ska Punk is trying to skank its way to a return. Last year Capdown played some reunion shows and this week it was announced that Whitmore are doing the same. WHITMORE... FUCK.

For those lucky enough to be too young to remember, Whitmore were at one point members of (the only slightly better) Uncle Brian, until they were kicked out by Uncle Brian's Management (the singers Mum) for smoking weed on tour. This meant they were sort of 'Ska-punk bad boys' and everyone loved them. That fucking 'Allison' song was everywhere. At one point they even brought their way onto an Avril Lavigne tour. And now... they're back. Playing the hall of broken dreams that is Salisbury Arts Centre, on March 26th.

Seriously, what's next? Mixtwitch? Gravel Trap? Headroom? Ye Wiles? Farse? Gone to Pot? Mustard Plug? Voodoo Glow Skulls? Mr. Zippy? Lubby Nugget? Kenisia? Jesse 'Paedo singer' James? The Toasters? Route 215? Spankboy? Eurgh...


I was so jealous when my friend Gaz told me he saw Botch at the Packhorse when I was 15. Wicked, I saw 'Skankt' at the Vic. Dear Ska Punk, you ruined my youth. Fucking do one.

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Fearne Cotton

I fucking detest Fearne Cotton. In an age where the British public scrape the barrel of mediocrity clean in the search for more and more celebrities, Cotton has got to be amongst the worst. Famous for being famous, she seems to be on everything that the BBC spits out; radio, TV, live events and countless charity appeal shows. Hardly surprising, considering members of her family are/were BBC executives and her father is a famous band leader. She even interviewed the Royal Family, exclaiming to Prince's William and Harry 'You're the Queens grand children, HOW COOL IS THAT?!' ...investigative journalism at it's best.

Always pushing to be seen as the BBC's whacky 'rock-chick' she is constantly talking about how cool/alternative she is, whether it be dating the gay one from Lost Prophets, bringing out her own range of Converse showes, spouting in interviews that she has not, one, but ELEVEN tattoos (the biggest of which is a Fearne leaf on her hip............) or that she is always going to gigs all over London and always strives to 'break' new bands.

One of the ways she does this, is a section on her radio show called 'The New Music Generator' where listeners call in, name three of the songs they are 'repping at the minute' and Fearne suggests something new that the poor sap on the other end of the line, will enjoy. I heard one segment where the caller listed My Chemical Romance, All Time Low and The Wombats. Fearne's suggestion was 'At Your Funeral' by Saves the Day. Wicked.

Good work Fearne, you are the very definition of 'Hip'

Another thing I despise about this talentless black hole is that she is somehow a fashion/sex icon... HOW HAS THIS HAPPENED??!! Seriously, what the fuck? She dresses like a 15 year old greebo. Red jeans, cowboy boots and fake glasses? Nice one, prick.

In fairness, neither of these things annoy the shit out of me nearly as much her boundless enthusiasm for EVERYTHING. Everything she sees is 'incredible' every new band she hears are 'awesome' and everyone she interviews in the 'nicest person in the world' She is the human equivalent of a pug dog, endlessly yapping at your heels, on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on until one day you just snap and kick the fucking thing in the face. Someone needs to shake her like a British nanny shakes American babies and scream in her face 'GET THE FUCK OFF OUR SCREENS FEARNE COTTON YOU OVERGROWN CHILD'

Monday, 3 January 2011

David Walliams and Matt Lucas

Having just spent a laugh free hour watching Lucas and Walliams newest show "Come Fly With Me", I feel compelled to write something about these two catch phrase spewing imbeciles and their uninspiring form of "comedy". It has taken me years to banish the haunting memories of their last show "Little Britain" to oblivion, but their newest travesty has unlocked that forbidden chamber of my mind. Their blatant style of gross-out, catchphrase and slapstick orientated comedy leaves me feeling cold and exhausted, and serves as a depressing reminder of how disconnected I am with the general public's tastes.

Lets be honest, Little Britain was a show that was written with the lowest common denominator in mind. It's target demographic was the type of morons that would recite idiotic catchphrases, and wear novely T shirts with slogans such as "IT'S CHICO TIME" or "FACE...BOTHERED?." These brainless simpletons will laugh at anything that is written in a way that uses catchphrase prompts to instruct them on when the appropriate moment to laugh is. The jokes in Little Britain were moronic, repetitive and often plain racist yet the idiotic general public ate this up like it was their last meal. Every sketch in Little Britain revolved around a catchphrase, which would be uttered by some stereotyped charicature in a marginally different scenario every episode...yet the idiots would still laugh. These idiots would regurgitate the catchphrases, and irritatingly employ them in situations in their everyday life, for example;
"Uh oh, the computers not working"...(wait for it....) "COMPUTER SAYS NO!" Predictably some fucking moron will respond with this terrible catchphrase , then desperately watch the reactions of the people around them to see if they understand their reference, as if we are all subscribers in some secret Little Britain club. Everytime this happens part of my soul dies forever, and my ability to laugh decreases by 2%.
I'm in a shop buying something from behind the counter (nothing sinister, calm down!), and I have to point to it because the shopkeeper couldn't see it. "No not that one, that one....yeah I want that one". At this moment the shopkeeper will interrupt with "HE WANTS THAT ONE!", like that sequence of words has triggered a compulsion for him to scream a rubbish catchphrase at me. Hidden balloons then drop from the ceiling, and I am presented with an award (I exaggerate).
It was impossible to escape these unimaginative catchphrases for several years, which were never funny first time...let alone a million times later! I thought that we would be rid of these two bastards after Little Britain finally came to an end, an event that in my mind is as significant as the fall of the Berlin Wall. After years of tyranny, we were free to live without the fear of having a slogan thrust in our faces by a cretinous parrot....or so we thought.

Walliams and Lucas (the turds that won't flush) are back with another show, a mockumentary parody of Airport reality shows. Here is a short list of the types of characters that feature in this side-splitting show;
  • Muslim airport ground worker that drives around leering at women and talking about "getting pussy" a lot. The joke is that he's a Muslim but is also sexually forward towards women, whoahhhhh this oxymoron is hurting my head!
  • Afro Carribean old woman that works in a coffee shop, but always ends up shutting it early because she's lazy.....awesome.
  • Foreign airport company owner (meant to be a parody of Easyjet owner Stelios Haji Ioannou), that is very cheap and determined to cut corners on safety.
  • Japanese schoolgirls that are obsessed with Western celebrities, who giggle and say hilarious things at that crazy Japanese language of theirs. HILARIOUS
Sounds promising right? Yeah I didn't think so. "Come Fly With Me" yet again reminds us that both Walliams and Lucas are completely lacklustre writers, that rely entirely on ignorant stereotypes to wrangle a cheap laugh out of their numbskull audience. In essence, this is basically a modern day Minstrel show! The controversial "blacking up" of the characters in this show desperately tries to mask the blatant inadequacies of the script, but it crashes and burns in a hideous car crash. I can't believe this passes as entertainment these days, everybody involved with this mediocre cringe fest should be fired! I am not one of those freaks that would burn a TV license outside of the BBC headquarters in protest, but since watching this embarrassment I have the urge to shit in an envelope and post it to them.

If you were to look at both "Little Britain" and "Come Fly With Me" from a neutral perspective, there is something overtly wrong about the types of jokes they are making. The characters are all marginalised members of society (easy prey) such as ethnic minorities, single mothers, homosexuals, the disabled, the poor and the elderly. I'm not the fucking comedy police, neither am I a PC fascist....but I still don't find an old lady pissing herself in public, a mentally ill patient making a repetive noise or a sexually active 12 tear old particularly funny. Without these marginalised punch bag stereotypes the careers of Walliams and Lucas would be down the toilet, as they consistently prove themselves to be the new generation of Jim Davidson/Bernard Manning style humour.

I remember hearing a statistic once that 1 in 3 families owned a Little Britain DVD. Seriously Big Britain, what the fuck is wrong with you? British comedy is fucking amazing, stop watching this mind numbing crap and check out the other shows on offer....you will soon realise how dire the writing of this set of insufferable cunts really is!