Hello soap fans, have a good weekend? Did you all wake up covered in vomit and shame this morning? Excellent news, you’re all disgusting and that’s why we tolerate you.

Last week was exciting in Soapland wasn’t it? All that stuff happened and then that other stuff happened too! Yeah we didn’t watch any of it but we looked back at our spoilers last week and they were utterly compelling.

Ready to sober up and read this drivel? Fantastic.

First up it’s Eastenders where Jack and Roxy hate each other and are still squabbling over that child they call Amy. Is that even her name? We don’t know.  We do know what you’re thinking about all this though- ‘On Friday the courts will decide who gets custody and then we can all move on and look forward to Heather’s death!’ but sadly those sneaky writers decided that Jack and Roxy need to turn all of that hate into second rate couch sex meaning Ronnie will find out, escape from prison, go nuts and start stealing babies again because that was a excruciatingly stupid really brilliant story line which needs to be repeated.  So who gets custody of Amy? Who cares. This isn’t real.

The new Lucy decides to thwart Mandy’s wedding dress fitting which is excellent news as it gives us an excuse to use the word ‘thwart.’  Lucy throws some coffee over Mandy’s wedding dress after claiming to have seen a mouse,  resulting in a big fight in the Queen Vic with Lucy facing the wrath of Salter.  Our favourite person on Eastenders Kim, organises a date with someone called Sinclair and when Ray jokes about her being ‘easy’ she decks him, with another slap aimed at Sinclair for having a stupid name.

Finally Bianca tries to kiss Ray and he recoils in horror. Understandably.

Next we’re off to Coronations Street where Carla is still getting a hard time at the factory. Peter suggests they move away from everyone and despite our cries of ‘F**KING DO IT!! GET OFF MY TELLY YOU BLAND SOAP ACTORS FROM HELL!!’, Carla decides to stay and front it out. Bitch.

Tracy plays loud music to wind up Steve. Tracy turns the heating down to wind up Steve.  Tracy must be stopped.

Jason and Rosie’s sexy story hits the front pages of the Gazette. When Owen sees the story he sacks Jason and Rosie is dropped from her road safety campaign but then cheers up when she’s offered a screen test for a new reality TV show.  It was at this point we decided to throw the communal laptop out of the window and never speak of this show again.

Neighbours time and Toadie can’t quite believe that Peter may be responsible for the attack on Chris!! We can’t believe it either! TOADIE! Who is Chris? But then he’s questioned by the police and ends up being accused of attacking the man we don’t know or care about one bit. It’s alright though because Rhys finds Chris at the garage and proves that not only is he good at finding people, he can perform emergency surgery on missing people whenever he damn well pleases.  Chris dies. HA! He doesn’t.

Kyle assumes that he and Jade and in a relationship but she reacts badly when the ‘R’ word is mentioned. We do hope ‘R’ stands for Rimming.

Thank god that’s over, time to mock another soap star and this week it’s Mark Fowler off Eastenders for the best moment ever on Dancing on Ice.

Everyone knows why Ant & Dec are successful. It’s because ITV keep giving them money to appear on television. Their success is also built on a natural rapport and an overwhelming level of similarity that often leads old people to ask which one is which. No-one really knows.

There are very few double acts that are still going these days, aside from Ant & Dec, there is only really Paddy McGuinness and his delusion who are operating in tandem. Think about it- if you could have any two people to form a double act and be commissioned to make television programmes, who would you want?

If you said anything other than Mark Wright and Dougie Poynter then you clearly have no interest in the future of prime time television.

Yes Mark Wright, former star of ITV2′s The Only Way Is Ego, wants the bigwigs of television to give him and his celebrity chum Dougie Poynter their own TV show.

Mark & “The Other One From McFly” became BFFs during the last series of I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here! although no-one noticed because they all gave up watching after the first episode had aired. Still, it’s quite sweet isn’t it? They’re pals and they want to shove the fact that they’re celebrity lovvies down our throats by subjecting us to some horrific chat/game/mutual masturbation show. Yes, very sweet indeed.

Some contemptible twat who probably writes inane press releases for a living told The Daily Redtop:

“They’re both really active and sporty so a high energy, fun-packed entertainment show would be ideal… Mark and Dougie have a huge fan base, individually and together.”

Hands up if you’re part of that huge fanbase… anyone… no? We see a couple of idiots with permatans and a bad dye-job over in the corner there, frantically gesticulating like John Terry in a zoo but we’ve chosen to ignore them. The risible moron went on to say:

“Most girls fancy them but they also appeal to men as they’ve got the blokey banter.”

There you go, folks! They’re the perfect TV couple. They’re both good looking blokes with shit for brains and penchant for self-flattery. Sign them up while Morecambe & Wise spin in their graves!

You’ve had a very hard week haven’t you? That Diane in accounting asked you to do that did she? She takes you for granted so much you know. We at hecklerspray love you very much. We would never take you for granted.

What you want to do is, pour yourself a massive gin (it’s the Queen’s favourite don’t you know) and get so blitzed that you don’t know where you are until the hangover kicks in at around Monday dinner time, just in time for a Boots meal deal. That’d be a great way to spend a weekend wouldn’t it? Absolutely off your face. Imagine not knowing how you got scratches and bruises. Intense.

If that isn’t for you though, maybe you’re a bit skint, or maybe ecstasy is your one true passion? Then we have the second best thing to do this weekend, and that’s watch all these brilliant TV shows and talk to us about them. A human conversation with someone. How avant garde.

FRIDAY

The Making Of Elton John: Madman Across The Water, BBC Four, 10:00pm

When Elton John isn’t dissing Madonna, or starring in Pepsi adverts for the Super Bowl, he claims he’s got a music career. Although we haven’t seen much of that since he duped Justin Timberlake to play him in the video for ‘This Train Don’t Stop There Anymore,’ it’s impossible to claim that he hasn’t had a major part of our musical heritage. From the bizarre jumpsuits and glasses, to the less bizarre outfits but more elaborate career choices, the man from Middlesex, has lived a varied and, not all together uninteresting life.

This documentary looks at the early Elton’s childhood, his apprenticeship at DJM Records and his eventual raise to supermegastardom. Bernie Taupin (Elton’s bezzie) and Leon Russell, his American BFF, blow smoke up his ass for our pleasure.

Here is Elton singing one of the greatest songs ever recorded ever with some Muppets

Toughest Place To Be A Bin Man, BBC2, 9:00pm

We all complain about our jobs at some point; whether it be delivering stinky babies from stinky lady holes, or being a PA to a demanding, misogynistic numpty, but have you thought about what it’s like emptying your bins for a living? It’ll be grim. Imagine the stuff that he’s seen. Never mind paparazzi going through your rubbish, its the bin men that you should be wary of.

Well this new BBC series, that pits our bin men against extreme bin men (that we hope will be flipping off wheelie bins and various other parkour stunts) takes us to one of the fastest growing cities in the World. Not the cultural bacteria between Sarah Ferguson’s toes when they gain sentience, but Jakarta, in Indonesia. With a population that easy passes 30 million, imagine the huge undertaking cleaning up their Dominos boxes and used tissues.

Wilbur Ramirez, our contestant in the Rubbish Olympics, travels to the land that squalor and poverty forgot to see how Imam, one of thousands of semi-destitute bin men who keep the streets of Jakarta that little bit less disgusting.

Don’t watch with your tea.

SATURDAY

Harry Hill’s TV Burp, ITV1, Whenever it’s on

We could blather on about how this series is the final series of one of the greatest primetime comedies for decades, or how Saturday night will probably never be the same once Dom Joly takes over and makes what is essentially Beadle’s About, or even how we will never marry make a honest woman of the Knitted Character, but instead of wasting your time, we’ll just leave you with this.

Look at Will. I. Am’s stupid glasses. This isn’t Tron sillyhead.

Take Me Out, ITV1, 7:45pm

Let the girl with the daddy issues see the abusive womaniser! This week sees three more struggling actors put aside any self worth and throw themselves at the mercy of 30 single women.

Trying to sum up with Take Me Out is so jaw achingly bad its like trying to keep up with a perpetual motion machine. Just as you react to one ball-bustingly bad bit the next one is veering towards you like Halle Berry speeding away from a traffic accident. It’s impossible to fully comprehend how disgusting Take Me Out will make you feel, but, if on the off chance you haven’t had enough and want to hate yourself a little bit more, then Mark Wright and some dafty present the deformed conjoined twin show. Do not say we didn’t warn you. If we could put a TV show in biohazard containment, it would be this.

SUNDAY

True Blood, FX, 10:00pm

The new series of True Blood is finally upon us, forcing it’s way on top of us like we’d imagine Dracula would do after watching Michael Roux Jr. cooking a steak barely rare (his accent is so sexy). Picking up a year after the end of Series Three concluded, and examining how Russell Edgington’s rampage has affected the already tense relationship between the mortals and vampires in Bon Temps.

Truth be told, we’re not sure that anyone watches True Blood for the story, and instead they use the 70 minutes to perv over Alexander Skarsgard, Sam Trammell and Ryan Kwanten. Which is bound to be plentiful, so get practicing those finger kegel exercises ladies, you’ve only got until Sunday.

Queens of British Pop, BBC2, 7:00pm

Who here likes pop music? Pop music could be one of the most important mediums in a modern culture, after all, imagine how boring Twitter would be if we didn’t have Jessie J or Lana Del Ray to vent our anonymous spleens about? Heck, the hecklerspray bedsit would be a more dilapidated hovel than it already is. And we already cook our beans over the exposed innards of our stolen TV.

Well gay men, feminists and musos rejoice! There’s a new show focusing, not on the sometimes antiquated and definitely over-worked subject of the influence men have had on pop music (even last week there was a whole night dedicated to Paul McCartney, with not a peep about Mari Wilson), but on women, and what women have done to the modern face of music. Exciting news, right?

The first show focuses solely on the 60s and 70s, with the archetypal female singers that every act over the past two decades has tried to emulate. Dusty Springfield, Sandie Shaw (see last week’s WATCH THIS! for our sole piece of Sandie Shaw trivia), Suzi Quatro and Kate Bush take centre stage with human leatherette three piece, Tom Jones, the only man to make drain pipes sexy, Jarvis Cocker and Henry “Eyyyyy!” Winkler jabber like drunken monkeys about what filth Marianne Faithfull got up to.

Join us here again next week, as we’ll still be probably singing ‘Wuthering Heights’ and backcombing what hair we have left, and will need someone to put us to bed and pop a bucket next to us. Just in case.

TSCHUS!

Eamonn Holmes is a man famed for the legendary status of his gargantuan gob.

Not only is it capable of producing more crap than his backside on a day-to-day basis, but when it isn’t spewing verbal sewage it’s being stuffed with all manner of deep-fried goodies.

Well, let’s hope Eamonn has deep-fried his foot after he managed to, once again, get it firmly lodged between his gums during an interview on This Morning.

Holmboy was interviewing a woman who was described as a, “sex addict,” or slag as they’re oft’ known in certain parts of Essex, when he dared to ask her:

“If you need this five or six times a day, have you never thought about making a business of it? Charging for it?”

Taxi for Holmes.

It transpires that sex addicts don’t like it when you ask them why they don’t just become prostitutes, because apparently they’re people too.

Albeit people who like to blame their socially blossoming genitalia on an addiction, in the hope that people will feel sorry for them as opposed to questioning how many STIs they have or asking them if they’ve ever considered becoming a prostitute live on daytime TV.

THIS IS SERIOUS DAMMIT, STOP LAUGHING!

Oh, you weren’t?

The bonking bonkers lady in question, Crystal Warren, curtly told Uncle Eamonn that she didn’t want to go on the game because:

“Then it becomes a business, then I become maybe like a robot. This way I am enjoying it, I do it when I want to do it, I get to choose who I sleep with.”

It’s the business side of prostitution that’s definitely the worst part of it, after all, who really knows how you go about claiming condoms as a tax-deductible expense?

Seriously. HMRC wouldn’t return our calls.

Hey! You know Julian Assange? What do you mean you don’t know who he is? He’s the man who leaks things. Allegedly, he leaks things all over people against their will (which he denies, natch). He also likes leaking documents which really gets up the nose of the world’s governments.

Sounds like a thrilling bloke, doesn’t he?

Well, the activist, currently under house arrest in the UK, is going to play himself in the 500th episode of The Simpsons. Yes really. We suspect he’s going to be very, very funny indeed. ‘He’ being Homer Simpson, not Julian Assange.

Apparently, Assange recorded his lines from a secret location, after show creator Matt Groening heard a rumour that he was interested in appearing on the television programme, according to The Telegraph.

The episode (airing in February) will see Homer and Marge hearing that Springfield residents have been holding secret meetings to evict the troublesome family from the town.

“The Simpsons go off the grid to this very rugged place where they meet [Assange], who’s sort of their new Flanders,” said Al Jean, executive producer of the show.

Then, in a really cheerful move, Assange then shows Homer a video of an Afghan wedding being bombed. No. We’re not making that up.

“He’s a controversial figure, and there’s a good reason he’s controversial,”Mr Jean told US journalists. “There was discussion internally whether or not to have him on the show, but ultimately we went ahead and did it.”

In other news, Julian Assange is due to appear at a hearing in the Supreme Court on Wednesday to appeal extradition to Sweden over sex crime allegations.

Is that officially funny now?

Matthew Broderick is a man with a surprisingly unremarkable film career.

We don’t mean he doesn’t make money- we’re sure he’s super-successful if judged by wealth. However, before you continue reading, grab a pad of paper and a pen. If, like us, you get hand-cramp from even writing your own name, then just open up a word document instead.

Now make a list of all the Matthew Broderick films of which you can remember. Done that? Now cross out all the ones that weren’t artistic travesties. Come on, be honest with yourselves. By the way if you didn’t cross out Godzilla it’s probably best if you cease this exercie immediately.

As a reliable rule of thumb one should master cutlery before tacking cultural discourse on the internet.

Don’t look on Wikipedia, that’s cheating. Now how many films have you got? Not many eh? 3, 4, 5 maybe? Weird isn’t it for an almost 30 year career?  We were surprised because we like equine bothering super nice-guy Matthew Broderick. The reason any of us still have a soft spot for him is because of Ferris Bueller.

If you like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, then you’ll probably love the new Honda commercial/Bueller homage made for the crazily valuable Superbowl commercial break slot. We say probably because you may feel there’s some ‘selling out’ issue. If that’s the case you may just have to accept that movies aren’t early 80s hardcore punk and that Matthew Broderick isn’t Henry Rollins.

Once you’ve done that then you can sit back and enjoy. Then depending on how keen you are, watch it again and look out  for the subtle details that were put there for your nerd-ass.

Oh, and try not to think about the fact that he looks like  70 year old botoxed woman when he has the towel on his head.

Hello readers. Have a good week? If our frighteningly accurate hecklerscopes are correct, then most of you are either dead or feeling a very real sense of shame and self loathing. Either is fine with us. For those of you still here, let’s look at what’s going to happen in Soapland this week.

Yep, you guessed it, Eastenders first and before we begin, we’d like to announce some exciting news which may not be true but we’ll share it with you anyway.

Heather will be brutally murdered by Ben! hecklerspray writer Robin Darke predicted that she’d be killed by George Michael who would then launch a campaign of terror culminating in him pissing all over Arthur’s bench, but we’ll settle for Ben being all stabby.

Characters are  leaving!  Yes – Mo, Mandy, Afia, Amira, Tyler, Anthony, Billy and Lola are all for the chop and this means we’ll get loads more fresh talent and stop getting ghosts of Eastenders past, returning whenever they feel like it. What? Oh….

Sharon is returning.

Anyway,  Jane left last week under a cloud of mascara and snotters and no-one cares as they’re all too busy being self centered and fictional. The Bland Brothers Tyler and Anthony owe money to Derek for reasons we’ve already forgotten and he tells them to either cock it or walk it. No. Sorry, he tells them to help him out in committing a crime or he’ll break their spindly little legs. Then Patrick gets involved and then Michael and then the Police and it’s all rather tedious. Janine steps in and offers to pay Derek off and we long for the old days when she’d have laughed and happily skipped over their corpses while hurling abuse at passing pigeons.

Shirley convinces soon to be murderer Ben to visit Phil in prison and of course Phil tells him to retract his statement and he’ll forget about the whole thing. Probably not the ‘gay’ thing but the blackmail thing anyway. Ben says he’ll dance on Phil’s grave when he dies and we really hope it’s in some sort of German slap folk dancing.

Roxy’s little angel Amy pinches George at playgroup and Whitney decides to have it out with the parents (as she’s now qualified in child psychology after two minutes working in a nursery making rice maracas), telling Roxy and Jack it’s their fault for squabbling so much. They grass her up to her boss and Whitney thinks she’ll lose her job. She doesn’t. Those preschool pasta faces won’t stick themselves to the paper – she’s a valued member of staff.

Elsewhere, Lucy interrupts a passionate moment between Ian and Mandy as she continues to compete with Mandy for her Dad’s affection which is quite creepy really. Heather gets engaged (DEATH IS COMING HEATHER) and Fat Boy thinks Whitney is cheating on him because she probably is.

Next we shuffle off to Coronation Street where Frank’s trial begins and Carla takes the stand. Oh it’s exciting isn’t it? Both her and Peter deny having an affair until photographs are shown of them kissing and then Leanne wonders if she can ever forgive the insipid alcoholic.  But the burning question is- DOES HE GET SENT DOWN FOR RAPE??? The answer to that is-  NO HE DOESN’T. Cleared of all charges. So we hear anyway. Our ‘sources’ are very unreliable.

With Becky gone, Tracy is determined to make it work with Steve but he tells her that he never loved her and in fact still loves Becky.  She then returns home to find that Owen has turned No.13 into two self contained flats and threatens to tell the council as he didn’t get planning permission. Oh shut up.

Finally, we’re going to visit Casualty as apparently it’s also a soap. Who knew?  After taking on her sister’s two children, someone called Linda tries to fit them in around her working life and gets help from someone who we know even less about.  An old lady called Doris has Alzheimer’s and is attacked leaving Lloyd to try and figure out what happened. Then Keith returns complaining on neck pain and Zoe thinks it could be caused by the time he was forcibly restrained by Sam after he threatened Dylan in the ED? What does any of that mean?

Glad that’s over? So are we and as promised here’s another soap star making themselves look like an idiot. Here’s Adam Rickitt all naked and ending his singing career before it even started.

A year from now…

No. Sorry, no. We don’t do that. We’re not a TV supplement. (We wish!) (No, not really.) (We mean, Christ, can you imagine?) (Shut up.)

So, basically Only Fools and Horses, inherently British, pukka, CUSHTY Only Fools & Horses has just been commissioned for a US Pilot! Well, we all saw THAT coming, didn’t we? Nine years ago.

Presumably, despite the weary efforts of The Green Green Grass, and Rock & Chips (we know, right?) that large Only Fools & Horses  shaped hole in our collective existence is still very much present. So what are we gonna do with all our problems? Make America sort it all out for bloody once, that’s for what.

It gets better. Former US Office star Steve Carrell is the fella planning on taking the lead in the whole thing too. Thank you for fixing Great Britain, Steve Carrell! Again!

‘The British do sitcoms better than anybody else in the world. [N'aww, cheers Ste! Chuffed with that. I guess there's no need for a US remake then or anything?] But I think with the right scriptwriters and cast we could do Only Fools and Horses justice. [But...] If anybody wants to help me do a remake I’d love it, [Oh. Well there goes OUR self esteem.] ‘

This is what Carrell said of the idea this time last year, like the world’s least efficient Mayan that he is.

Under the helm of the *cough* writer of Scrubs (OH COME ON) with initial rumours of appearances by Jason Biggs as a ‘potential Rodney’ here is a US remake that really could take off. The Daily Mail even has a handy key of cockney dialect translations to assist the Americans in their foray into the capers of two LAHNDAN GEEZAS wanting to be MIWIONAYRES, like some sort of American dream or something! Pah!

Manifest destiny! Woo!

We can’t wait to see the really funny interpretation of the classic ‘Del Boy falling over sequence’ or the bit where they go to a funeral but *prolapses laughing* it’s the WRONG BLADDY FUNERAL! It’ll be like that bit in American sitcom Friends, where Ross goes to the WRONG airport to try and stop the woman of his dreams leaving for France. That was really, really funny. Or so we’re told.

Still, we suspect it will be rather funny – like that time Mike Baldwin from Coronation Street couldn’t find his house! Except that was Alzheimers of course.

So! Do you think this new incarnation of Only Fools and Horses will be…cushty..? (Did we do that right? It didn’t feel very right.) Or just total and utter crap on a stick?  Give us a comment just below, if you really truly for some reason feel your opinion matters and that we might read it.

We’ll leave you with the rejected pilot from the IT Crowd. Spot the sellout!

It really is like watching an alternate universe where Community Series 3 never got cancelled.

There isn’t much to be said about Harry Derbidge that hasn’t already been said. By that we mean that there is very little to say about Harry Derbidge aside from the fact that he appears to have an IQ comparable to that of a brain-damaged heron. In fact, up until today we hadn’t actually heard of anyone called Harry Derbidge and assumed that a ‘derbidge’ was a way of accessing a castle.

Of course we know better now and our apologies go to the young Mr Derbidge who has spent the weekend garnering our respect by winning a massive important award! Yeah! Screw the brain-dead attention seekers of The Only Way Is Essex! Their former colleague Harry has picked up the coveted “Idiots’ Idiot” award at a hastily arranged ceremony sponsored by hecklerspray.

Let’s hear it for Harry, readers!

Yes, at the glitzy ceremony which was held in one of Manchester’s fashionable disused industrial estates, Mr Derbidge was presented with the award by The hecklerspray Phantom who took the opportunity of meeting one of its favourite idiots to vomit ectoplasm in the reality star’s face.

There were so many nominees for the “Idiots’ Idiot Award” that we had to have an overflow industrial estate just to fit them all in. The ceremony was piped into the buildings via an internet feed before the giant buildings were flooded with a potent nerve gas that will put most of them out of commission for around three months. Everyone except Frankie Cocozza who swanned out of the front door claiming he’d had worse Sunday evenings.

The judges had such a tough time picking a winner that it took a very special “Twitter Tie Break” to smash through the stalemate and propel Harry to the title of Idiots’ Idiot 2012. To contextualise, when it was announced that he wouldn’t be returning for a fourth series of TOWIE, he naturally decided he hated everyone he had previously pretended to be friends with for money. He tweeted:

‘Omg have you all just seriously seen that towie advert where everyone is saying shut up… I have been catchphrased robbed! X’

It takes a really special kind of idiot to believe that “shut up” is a catchphrase. It’s no ‘What’s Up, Doc?’ is it? It’s just something that around 95% of the English-speaking world says on a regular basis. Good on him though for being deluded enough to believe that he has some sort of intellectual property right on a common utterance.

It won him a shit, hastily fictionalised award which is a damn-sight more than he’ll be winning any time soon.

Any child of the nineties will remember not wanting to go to school. Not because the education system was as messed up as Chloe Sims’ face, or because of the taunts of  the three stripe-clad knuckle-draggers who marked themselves as the school’s social elite.

It was because they wanted nothing more than to watch The Big Breakfast.

The alternative breakfast show has been hosted by pretty much everyone on television, but really came into its own with Johnny Vaughan and Denise Van Outen at the helm. It was brash, bright and loud: just what a child wants instead of stupid Maths and History. Tell the truth, where has Maths or History ever got you that knowing how to sing the ‘Vital Statistics’ song hasn’t? Nowhere, that’s where.

Well Children of the 90s rejoice and unite, because rumours flying around the internet and now your brain, is that the Big Breakfast is coming back to our screens to coincide with the Olympics this year. Probably to cheer everyone up before having to endure packed Tubes and buses for two whole, solid weeks. And that’s just the ceremony itself!

Although nothing is set in stone, and the whole project looks unlikely given that Chris Evans and Johnny Vaughan have their own careers on radio and the like, but isn’t the thought of it just absolutely ball tingling ?

The site of the Big Breakfast House was compulsory purchased to go with the 2012 Summer Olympics plan put forward by the government, so it’s looking likely that the site will be used for something to do with the Olympics, and it may just be a case of wishful thinking. For all we know, it could be the place where all the chemical toilets are emptied.

However, any reason to have Liza Tarbuck back on our screens is fine with us, so come on Hecklersprayers! Let’s start some sort of grass roots campaign to get the Big Breakfast back on our TV. It’s when Johnny Vaughan was super-hot.

That might just be us.

Americans have loads of stuff that’s essentially just for them, but occasionally seeps into the cultural mindset of others. Even though its just rounders for men, they call it the “world series” even though only American teams compete.

Then there’s the general extra injection of happiness and excitement that all Americans possess. Even going to the toilet to expel waste results in over enthusiastic whoops, screams and cheers, almost like they’ve passed a sparkly stool.

TV is, sometimes, America’s best export. But then again, this is the same nation that still churns out The Simpsons despite all its charm vanishing years ago. One giant success is Glee, even though it is essentially a TV version of High School Musical, but even more sweet and sickly. And the series is about to broadcast a tribute Michael Jackson episode. What could possibly go wrong?

Now, we don’t really want to bring this up, but if memory serves, there were a few incidents during Michael Jackson’s career where he was accused of being slightly inappropriate with children. Not by accidentally swearing in front of an infant, rather, he was accused of committing the last taboo – having a fiddle with a tot.

That made him bad, dangerous and totally off the wall when the world found out.

But who are we to accuse someone of a crime they didn’t commit? After all, not one, but two separate juries let him off all charges brought against him. Hooray! We’re sure he Michael Jackson celebrated with a Jesus Juice party inside a tree house. Of course we still make jokes about it, but then again, Michael Jackson fans are no better.

They’re still baying for the blood of ‘Sexy’ Dr. Conrad Murray. Nobody ever overlooks the fact that Jackson was a known addict to industrial strength drugs. And poor ‘Sexy’ Conrad was convicted of his manslaughter as he was the provider of said drugs. Great to Team Jackson – Jermaine, Tito, Randy and Janet all involved in the process of trying to save their brother. Not La Toya though. She’s too mental to care.

With the world more or less over the death of the pop star, there’s still another way for the Jackson estate to bore us about his career and see a mini surge in sales.

On January 31st, an episode will premiere featuring a bucket load of songs which will be praised by fans of the show and hated by Michael Jackon nutcases, who’ll be angered that someone dared emulate their hero. A teaser trailer has been released to promote the episode. LOOK:

This will all be interspliced with the following storyline that we have no idea about. Even the hecklerspray phantom couldn’t manage an episode:

“The rivalry between the New Directions and the Warblers intensifies en route to Regionals. Meanwhile, Kurt and Rachel receive news regarding their admissions process at NYADA, and things continue to heat up between Sam and Mercedes.”

2-4-6-8, what do we appreciate? A large bottle of gin and backstreet fried chicken.

Simon Cowell has made stars of boybands, Chico, Susan Boyle and a variety of completely forgettable singers like Steve Brookstein, Leon Thingy and DooDah Sneddon. Possibly. We’re get all those talent shows confused these days.

So what’s his next move? Well, apart from publicly wooing Cheryl Cole again (presumably Kelly Rowland can’t be bothered saying ‘boo’/sitting next to the bizarre Tulisa on the X Factor next year), he’s decided he’s going to make a talent show about DJs.

Seriously. While this may pique the interest of some, there’s little chance it could work in a primetime format… surely?

The music vampire-cum-mogul is launching a new talent competition to find the world’s best DJs.

Cowell says:

“DJ’s are the new rock stars, it feels like the right time to make this show”

So what kind of thing will the DJs be doing, to showcase how brilliant they are? Of course, the best DJs show off their skills  over a series of hours when they promote then play a set for a dancefloor filled with people. Will the show be around 40 hours long while a variety of DJs try and make a crowd go nutso?

Of course, the most notorious way for a DJ to show-off is to scratch. For those that don’t know, there’s a variety of ways to approach scratching. There’s the usual thd-dghgdggy-thd stuff, as well as the infamous wiki-wiki-frrssshh scratch. But that wouldn’t make much of a show.

There’s more showy people out there who can do things like this…

Or beat juggle like this…

In which case, if that’s what Cowell is going for, then he’s trying to reinvent the DMC Championships which, as brilliant as it is, isn’t going to be winning over any primetime mums and nanas any time soon, is it?

Away from that, Cowell wants Cheryl Cole back in his loving, tender, televisual embrace. When asked whether Cheryl could potentially return to the ITV1 programme, he said:

“She could be a panellist again if she wanted to – 100 per cent. I don’t know if she would. I think she probably misses me.”

Whatever. She’s off washing her hair for money. We’re more interested in what Cowell plans to do for DJing. Will we see a good-looking DJ getting off a stool for the key-change?

Oh god. Cowell is thinking of DJ Talent isn’t he?

Downton Abbey is great for many reasons: its faithful commitment to anachronism, its stringent adhesion to the patriarchal values of an aristocratic class that should by all rights be extinct and, of course, all the lovely shiny things. 

If you’re a magpie, or a viewer in possession of a lower than average IQ, you probably spent the heavily-ad-breaked episodes of Downton thinking only of the shiny things, whilst occasionally wondering how Michelle Dockery keeps her face so very, very immobile.

Well, guess what, stupid magpie folk: you can buy replicas of all the shiny things you saw on those ass-kicking Edwardian heroines! From a knotted pearl necklace (quiet at the back) as modelled by Lavinia before she died the lamest death ever, to Lady Sybil’s token feminist gesture earrings, it’s all here! There’s also a cloche hat, for if you like Downton but also take fashion cues from Notting Hill circa 2005. Oh, and a teapot and mug set.

The collection isn’t actually licensed by the Downton Machine Conglomerate (or Carnival Films, whatever), who got predictably sniffy about not making any profit from the collection.

Julian ‘richer than Croesus’ Fellowes was likely too furious to make any comment other than a strangled aristo sputter, so the production company said this:

“We did not authorise the sale of Lady Mary jewellery. Our lawyers have been in contact with PBS in order to remove these items from sale.”

The items haven’t been removed, but all mention of Downton characters has. Which is actually a good thing. You might think it romantic to buy your wife a Lady Mary or Lady Edith necklace, but what you’re saying there is that she’s either a cold bitch who’d fuck a Turkish diplomat to death, or a plain ginger who is destined to a lifetime of spinsterhood and put downs from Dame Maggie Smith.

Speaking of Dame Maggie, where’s the Dowager Violet Hat and Cane set, eh? Ageist bastards.

This was written by Becca Day Preston with her own blood

OfCom, the protector of modern decency and punisher of all who swear at Manuel from Fawlty Towers, have ruled that ITV were breaking the rules when they let Tulisa waggle her arm at the cameras.

And not in a Rebel Without a Cause, sexy, doing it with the lights on, leaving the lid off the margarine and swearing at the Pope kind of rule-breaking way, oh no.

They were breaking broadcasting rules, which are as old and fierce as time itself. Unless you’re Ricky Gervais, and you want to insult disabled people, obviously.

Tulisa got in big trouble this October for her attempt at reinventing Cheryl Cole’s now notorious “dickhead salute” in an even more irritating and fatuous manner, by doing a sort of half-sentient gurn at the camera whilst displaying her classy The Female Boss tattoo.

As well as being awkwardly worded and sounding like a low quality but potentially filthy spanking film, The Female Boss is the name of Tulisa’s perfume, which we had a sniff of when we were doing our Christmas shopping, and can assure you smells like Glenn’s vodka and a handful of Wham bars.

Tulisa, taking a break from glassing a child in the face while keying someone’s Fiesta, gave far too much credit to the intelligence of The X Factor’s audience:

“someone wouldn’t go into a shop and buy my perfume just because they’d seen my tattoo”

They probably, would, Tulisa. They bought Canonball by Little Mix, didn’t they?

Meanwhile, Ricky Gervais’ joke about Susan Boyle being a “mong” is apparently totally fine and AOK and Ofcom thinks maybe you should just calm down about it, yeah? You see, Tulisa was flogging her rank odour pre-watershed, while Ricky Gervais waited until half 10 at night to insult people with Down’s Syndrome and “therefore most viewers of the programme would have been expecting stronger and more challenging content.”

Which leaves us to wonder, would we rather live in a world where Tulisa’s perfume is pumped into the atmosphere 24/7, or where Ricky Gervais’ comedy is considered ‘challenging’?

It’s a tough one to call.

This was a post by Becca Day-Preston who is really bloody amazing

It’s soap spoiling time again you lucky people!  Once again we’ve been held at gunpoint and forced to write stuff about something we’d only care less about if we were dead. Want to know what exciting things happen in Hollyoaks this week?  Tough. We didn’t include them.

As usual we’re off to Eastenders first and before we give you this weeks predictable spoilers, we’d like to jump up and down topless in appreciation of Kim, who’s near death rubbish pile romance scene with Ray was our highlight of last week.

This week Ben’s hilarious plan to get his dad arrested has finally worked. Yes Phil Mitchell has been charged with the murder of Stella in a plot so drawn-out we had to look on YouTube to remember what actually happened. We’re still not sure.  However, the smug grin is soon wiped off his face when Shirley throws him out and he’s forced to go and live with Ian Beale and as you all know, when you move in with Ian you have to marry him – it’s Eastenders law.

Anyway, it seems that once upon a time, Bianca managed to sleep with someone who wasn’t completely unattractive! New face Ray is determined to be a dad to Morgan and offers to cook dinner for the Butchers. He then reveals he has a daughter called Sasha and Bianca isn’t happy. OH THERE’S A SHOCKER.  Still, our protests last week seem to have worked and Ricky has pissed off, so hopefully Bianca will be next.

Elsewhere, Tanya and Jane fall out over her plans to go to Wales, Lucy confronts Mandy over her secret phone calls and Derek gives Ben a jumper. This isn’t a euphemism.

Next we go to Coronation Street because you lot moan when we don’t write about it. Tracy and Steve get married this week and as Tracy is a scheming, lying villain, you know this won’t end well or have any comedy value whatsoever. Yes Becky gatecrashes the church to tell Steve that Tracy is all of those things we’ve just mentioned and manages to ruin the whole bloody charade.  Don’t fret though, BECKY IS LEAVING! We’ve already put bunting up in the hecklerspray bedsit as between her and Ricky Butcher being removed from our televisons, we haven’t been this happy in a long time. Pete and Carla share some really unconvincing kisses and plan a secret hotel rendezvous so they can engage in some really mediocre sex acts. What they don’t know is that Frank has a private investigator following them, called Trish.  Trish?

Trish was always one step ahead.

Finally, despite the fact we haven’t watched Neighbours in 25 years, we’ll still tell you stuff as you obviously haven’t moved on.  First of all, Guy Pearce is a brilliant actor. He’s done really well for himself hasn’t he? Sadly he’s not in Neighbours anymore, but do you know who still is? Stefan Dennis, aka Paul Robinson.  This week he puts together his case to fight for Kate’s career. We don’t know who Kate is but you probably do so that’s all that matters. Emilia teaches Tash some Wiccan method called ‘grounding’ which hopefully involves her being buried alive somewhere and someone called Chris is gay.

It’s fair to say we’ve all learned something important this week.

Anyway, let us end this excuse for a feature with a video of a soap star doing something they should be particularly ashamed of.

Expect more of these.