Well it’s been a high profile week for music what will all the sports happening and that. If you didn’t watch the kitten walk on the pitch in the football or MIA flip the proverbial bird in the Super Bowl then it really doesn’t matter because The Metro covers just about all of it in a much more elaborate and unnecessary way than the above sentence makes you think it might be worth.

The kitten doesn’t have a music video out, but we’re positive you can watch it singing on YouTube or, you can see it in your mind’s eye on ketamine; whatever takes your fancy really.

MIA on the other hand does have a video response out in antithesis to the popular Alexandra Burke song ‘Bad Boys’, which is nice for her. Shall we watch some new releases then?

MIA has opted to show us all her bad side in ‘Bad Girls’ which frankly we just never saw coming.

Warning. It features cars and a load of posing.

And not much worthwhile tune.

If you were bored enough to watch the above ‘short film’ from Roman Gavras, the director of “How can I make a short lived cultural criticism next?” then you will have noticed Maya wearing her shiny bra on the outside like a feminine version of Super Girl. She bad. It’s probably all political and about war and oil and greed and stuff, but MIA knows that’s way over all our heads so she decided to re-enact that scene from Sex And The City 2 where everyone in the Middle East dresses like a Western capitalist twat. She bad.

So what’s just happened right now is we’ve just watched nearly four entire minutes of our very first Alexandra Burke video. Yeah, she’s back which is probably not a coincidence, but more of an elephant in the room as she so candidly puts it on the song ‘Elephant.’ It’s all just a bit unfortunate really.

Brilliantly, you can’t embed the video yet, so if you want to actually see it after listening to that cod-club bilge, click here

We all just need to calm down a minute. You might think The Shins are a boring band and this video proves you 500 per cent right, but we’re still standing by them.

It could be captivating if you… no? Okay. Sorry. Moving on, we here at the ‘spray like to teach you, dear reader, stuff. Not how to read; we don’t want you to leave, but how to see in colour—it’s something they can do now with technology and stuff. Sadly OK GO got their first as per.

We know it’s for Big Bird and his friends on ‘the farm’ but hopefully now you will all see how OK GO are little more than a meme. Can we all move on from their 753 trick pony now?

Addendum- if you’re still helplessly trying to be relevant then you can watch the numerous parodies of Lana Del Ray that are being knocked together in studios across the world. One of them features her off of that film about the funny women and the other features the comedian not off of the funny film with the women, but does have some references to teenage literature.

We’ll let you decide what you want to do with that.

Winona Ryder once said: “Dear diary, my teen angst bullshit now has a body count,” clearly she was watching Skins where, in the opening three episodes of the season, two people have been brutally butchered from the cast list. We haven’t seen one funeral.

In fact the closest we come to Richard Curtis territory is a seaside elegy and mere reference to a wedding. Obviously this is too inherently British for the residents of Bristol who are more content to wallow.

It’s all getting totes emosh up in here which is no doubt why the writers this week introduced us all to a new plucky character to reconfigure the group dynamic. He’s gay too, so that not-graphic-enough-sex-scene ticks another demographic box for the youth enveloping programme.

New Gay and dice man about town Alex got the spotlight this evening along with fag-hag Liv who’s back on the booze and off the rails, on fine form as all of her associates decide that communication is overrated. Instead, they opt for a series of scowls, smiles, and generally fraught looks.

Alex, despite the weird face and normal name, was actually a rather good character to introduce at such a late stage. They brought him in shrouded in a smug cloud of smuggish mystery, like an amateur Derren Brown looking for work in a bowling alley, but he turned out to be a well-rounded young man who actually introduced the concept of ‘see you at college’ to the group.

Obviously nobody saw anyone at college because this programme is teaching us all that you don’t need to learn things – you just need to know how to cheat at poker. We can recommend the DVD special features on the film 21 if you’re looking for a quick guide to card counting. Or just watch The Real Hustle if you can bear it.

Anyway, it was a strangely melancholy episode for Skins. With half of the cast dead or mysteriously absent, it only left a few faces to glumly teach us the art of the awkward silence and boy did they stay stony faced in solidarity. You know when your friend dies and you just knock back a few shots and don’t move on? That is exactly what happened for an hour last night on E4 – at least we had it in HD is all we’re saying. Of course it wouldn’t be Skins if there wasn’t time for a few parties, a quick flash of the tits and some reciting of Nietzsche.

Dead Grace would have loved the send-off, but she might have wondered where her boyfriend was. Rich, hi if you’re reading this –  please do come back and tell us you’re not in a mental institution for hallucinating all those moments with the one you loved after she had been dead at least 24 hours, cheers.

Frankly nothing really happened this week and it is easily the best episode of the series so far, which is a bit backwards. This is possibly because this mundanity is what being a teenager is actually like. It’s not smuggling drugs in the desert and the like. It’s sitting around, not knowing what to say.

It won’t last though. TV won’t allow a character to languish. It’ll be bags of ket in no time, with yawning predictability.

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.

One of the big talking points from the Super Bowl commercial break was… well… Clint Eastwood. Away from that though, there’s a little excitement surrounding the trailer for Marvel’s The Avengers movie.

While most superhero flicks are brooding like Batman at the moment, it appears that The Avengers film is going to be pleasingly dumb, if the trailer is anything to go by.

So if you want to see it, strap in and watch things explode with Captain America (Chris Evans), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr), Scarlett Johansson (Black Widow) and Hulk get into a giant scrap with a fella with long, greasy hair.

The baddie in the piece is called Loki and he’s all cocking his head with an evil eyebrow nonsense while Rob Downey Jr is, well, playing himself.

Elsewhere, Captain America’s shield will get nerds wet, while everyone else with be getting aroused over Scarlett Johansson in a catsuit.

Oh, and there’s aliens and laser beams and all that good stuff.

One thing that people may raise a vague titter at is the exchange between Loki and Iron Man. ”I have an army,” says Tom Hiddleston’s Loki. “We have a Hulk!” Stark replies.

Those superheroes and villains! Do they rehearse this stuff?

Yes they do. Now watch the trailer.

Another week, another loosely adhered to theme for Dancing on Ice. This week the theme was “Pop”, although really it should’ve been “Katarina Disagrees”. But that wouldn’t have fitted in so well with One Direction’s appearance, so pop it was.

Some teenage boys with suits and sideways hair weren’t going to stop Katarina, though. She has monumental cleavage AND Olympic medals. Nothing’s getting in her way.

Not even fellow Olympian Chemmy Alcott, who Katarina infamously called “big” a few weeks back, before begging her not to ever do any lifts ever again. Chemmy wasn’t having any of it though, and decided to do a handstand on her partner’s leg. Queen Katarina tried to pretend that she only wanted to keep Chemmy safe for the next Olympics. Nobody believed her.

Unlike Rosemary, who everyone believes all the time, bcause she’s lovely. Which is why the evil overlords of ITV decided that she had to be tipped upside down and spun round in circles until she was nearly sick all over the ice. Katarina loved it and gave her a seven. Everyone else was deeply, deeply indifferent.

As they were when Jennifer Ellison took to the ice. According to her VT, she needed to “go for it”, which is becoming such a recurring theme that we expect it will soon be given its own show. What Jennifer went for this week was some seriously unfortunate hair, supposedly because she was skating to ‘Vogue’. Really, we think the stylist just hates her.

Still, at least Jennifer can take comfort in the fact that the stylist hates Sam more. He was given a very, very dodgy blonde wig and made to skate to Wham. Which was presumably punishment for dropping his partner repeatedly in practice. Or for forcing everyone to see him in bed, as he did at start of his routine. It’s one or the other.

Despite his best efforts to traumatise the entire country, Sam still lost out on his attempt to become “Most Disturbing Person on Dacing on Ice”. Because Chico and Heidi were there.

Heidi skated to the caterwauling wreck that is Jessie J, and decided to pay homage through her wardrobe. Which was a catsuit. With spangles. On the vadge. Again.

Chico said the word “fluidity” and then donned a skin-tight silver t-shirt, leaving the entire country feeling more queasy than Rosemary after her upside-down-vom-spin. Robin told Chico to “keep something for himself”. We assume he meant the t-shirt. Please, please, make Chico keep that t-shirt for himself.

Whilst the midfield were battling their wardrobes, Jorgi and Matt were continuing their ice dance war. Except that it was a bit one-sided this week, because while Jorgi was skating around in a paedophile’s dream of a school uniform and getting top scores, Matt had ruined his back a bit.

Not really ruined, you understand. Just ruined enough to make him miss two days of training and struggle a bit with the sexual assault that is the sit lift. Robin and Louie thought he pulled it off. Katarina, shockingly, disagreed. She gave him 6.5 and a shake of her shoulder pads.

And then she ruined all of her credibility.

It all started when Andy came out and did a weird stomping dance to the Proclaimers. We were expecting Katarina and her bosom to point out that it was an awkward crock of dung, but instead she tried to tell everyone that it was entertaining. The lying bitch.

And she didn’t even try and stop Robin and Louie from throwing endless clichés at Sebastian. Apparently, he is on a journey, and has a lot to offer, and various other inane and predictable things. We were mostly just annoyed with him for trying a strange new jump and not falling over.

Also trying very, very hard not to fall over was Charlene, who was given a fast routine and a Lady Gaga outfit, which she then used to terrify everyone. It turns out that Charlene can do the splits. So she did. In the air. With her ladybits pointing at the camera. It was part of her attempt to ditch her status as the “skate-off queen” and get straight through to next week.

It didn’t work.  At all. Not even a little bit. Because she didn’t just end up in the skate off with Sam, she got booted off the show. So now we know; when middle-aged women flash their lycra-clad bits at you, bad things happen.

Now can someone please tell Madonna?

Pop promos! More of them! There’s always new music being made. This is, of course, a good thing. It’s also a really, truly awful thing. Some records come out and you just think ‘why did you bother?’

Fame and fortune await the few, for the majority will forever be destined to be loved by the faithful dozen who, regrettably for the bands concerned, are not good looking enough to warrant regular sex.

And so, here’s the new releases.

This is what the world of the singles chart looks like from inside a boredom vacuum, except that none of these songs will probably ever glance the chart.

You decide whether that’s a good or bad thing.

And you’ve probably heard of Cloud Nothings. They’re one of those bands that people talk about for the sake of tirelessly opening and closing their idiot faces. We think they probably liked ‘grunge’ when growing up and still wear stonewash jeans. However, unlike their grunge peers, this lot have already sold out to The Man, who is in this case, is Urban Outfitters.

Yes, that pretentiously bad video was something to do with the idea that ‘we want you all to think we’ve been to art school’, when really, it looks like that bad scene in Gladiator where they make Russell Crowe float through some corn fields and into Rome.

Speaking of ’90s revivalism, here’s a really crap advert signalling the return of Garbage.

Fighting the status quo of the cultural cataclysm that is New Boring is the one and only original Old Boring. That’s right! Feeder are back again with their impressively awful lyrics and archetypal quiet-loud dross.

Away from all that ninetiesness, the ‘Him’ of unpopular tweetards ‘She and Him’ has made some music. You want to hate it and why wouldn’t you? He wears sunglasses and suits and more importantly he’s friends with retro edition Barbie Zooey Deschanel.

Sadly he got someone infinitely cooler than himself, a man called Joe Trussell, to animate the video for him and it looks  just great.

Now sod off.

Films. Movies. Whatever you call them, they are still being released. They’re always being released. They’ll never stop being released. Surely, at some point, we’ll reach a time when we’ve got enough films. We only need so many, right?

Anyway, until then, we’ve got to look at the newest flicks that are coming out. You can almost smell the stale popcorn.

So, here’s what the week in film trailers looks like for those of you who are hearing and/or visually impaired we’re doing the dirty work so you don’t have to.

Now if you’re still one of the poor serfs who has Spotify or television adverts in your life then you will have been numbed by the incessant marketing of a film called Chronicle.

You’ll all be delighted to know this is coming to an end as the film is out tomorrow, but here it is one more time just to make sure you never go and watch it.

What’s that? Douche-bag school kids who probably say things like douche-bag all the time and a ‘found’ film? Either way, these bozos have super powers and one of them goes a little bit psycho. They listen to, sing, and enjoy Jessie J and then they have the nerve to ask us what we’re capable of. Well we’re capable of not watching this movie that’s for sure.

This on the other hand we don’t even really want to discuss, but before you watch it we want to devastate you with the news that you will soon be witnessing Al Pacino starring as himself in Adam Sandler’s ‘The Death of Comedy’ where he plays his own twin sister. Eddie Murphy must be furious.

Eurgh.

More odd is that here’s a trailer for a good film for you! Well, it looks good at any rate. See? We’re not wholly negative goons.

HA! We made you watch one of the Olsen sisters act. She’s not on crack though and she doesn’t have an eating disorder so it’s all looking up for Martha Marcy May Marlene. Plus it has John Hawkes, who is the most underrated actor of a generation and Brady Corbet who is hot stuff for you members of the population who can’t watch a film unless it has good abs and hair being flaunted for at least 45 minutes.

Okay, you’re going to want to ready yourselves for the next one, it’s by Jason Reitman and Diablo ‘used to be a whore in practice now just in your thoughts’ Cody.

On a level of your new favourite movie to totally crapping twee how good/awful does that look?

Charlize Theron was good as an ugly serial killer in that film that was about the ugly serial killer, but she’s much better as a smoking hot grade a bitch.

Now go to the cinema and stop bothering us.

It’s a brand new week, scum buckets, and to start the downward decline is a brand spanking new episode of Skins and boy oh boy is it miserable this time around! Are you lucky?

First, let’s get real for a moment folks. This is the second episode, so they have to bring out the big guns now that everyone’s back in boring old Bristol and not some country that bristles with sexual heat, so of course, the writers needed to make an episode that tackles the burning issues—as long as something is hotter than fire we’re all happy right?

Of course there were parties and of course there was sex there was even some minimal drug use, but who isn’t rocking a casual line of coke these days. Where was the hard liquor though? We all remember the days when a bottle of vodka lasted for one quick swig, but now it seems everything’s a little too melancholy for anything stronger than a can of lager. It’s so down in the dumps this week that Phil Collins made the soundtrack when not even rain was in the air. These writers need to get their shit together and go on a rollercoaster or something.

This week it was Rich’s turn for the spotlight as he went bat-shit mental dreaming about his dead girlfriend—if you haven’t watched it yet then that right there is what we in the biz like to call a spoiler. Yeah Grace is dead now, they went to Switzerland and everything because it’s okay to euthanise (MURDER) people there. We told you there were issues. Though we’re not really sure how it tackles them in any way whatsoever, it sort of just waved at it from a passing car and said; “hey this is still a thing right? Guys?” it is indeed still a thing. Can you imagine a world where Skins solves the whole euthanasia argument because that makes us want to lethal inject our perfectly healthy bodies to death.

More in-keeping with you heathens and what proved so popular over the past five years, the show throws a party and really cleverly, they invite all their Facebook ‘friends’ to come and have an averagely good time while enjoying some mindless anarchy because, “that’s what the kids are into now right?”

Let’s all say this together…R I O T S.

See we told you there were issues, plural. Nobody can deny that’s an issue, that’s the sort of issue Skins can realistically grapple with and grapple it does. Except these upper class pritt sticks decide it’s all just a bit of harmless fun and wear their headache inducing clothes to a massive mansion to indulge in the meagre activities of the plebians. They’re all scum buckets who can’t even cry on cue so they just eat biscuits instead. If anybody offers you a biscuit when you’re sad that your friend is in a coma, you have our authority to crumble that bourbon up and put it in their hair. They probably love their precious hair. Dicks.

Then set fire to their faces and send them to Switzerland.

So it’s all a little sad this week, you might have even cried if you’re a pansy, but what we all really learnt is that you should never treat your phone like Rich does because it totally ruins the illusion of speaking to your dead girlfriend. Maybe the real issue the writers were tackling this week was insanity; there are just too many bloody layers for us all to wrap our heads around. These people are geniuses in the guise of tossers that’s what we think and you should too if you know what’s good for you.

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.

What springs to mind when somebody says “duel”? People flouncing about with swords, trying to kill each other? Yes? Well, forget about that. Because this week, Dancing on Ice brought us the least threatening duels of all time.

There were no swords. There was no serious injury. There were just two celebrities on the ice at the same time, skating one after the other, and wearing vaguely coordinated outfits.

And the prize for winning the duel? Did they get to use their skating blades to hack their rival’s costume to pieces? Or to inflict some dramatic but non-lethal wounds upon them? Or steal their partner? Or do anything? Anything at all?

No. They got immunity from this week’s skate-off. That was it.

First to compete for the world’s least exciting prize were Chico and Sam, who as well as sharing the ice and the music were also sharing their costume. Not literally, unfortunately, even though a pantomime horse on ice could be utterly brilliant.

Instead, they were both dressed a bit like Freddie Mercury and as per the rules of this particular “duel”, they started off facing each other. Doing push ups, which we assume was considerably easier for one Freddie than the other.

In fact, everything seemed to be easier for Chico/Freddie, who was just shitloads better than Sam/Freddie. He was faster, and better at the lifts, and did more complicated fancy stuff. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more devastating for Sam he had to finish the routine with yet more push ups, even though his arms were presumably burning more than Lindsay Lohan’s ladybits.

Next up were Jennifer and Sebastian, who were set up as the ULTIMATE SKATING DICHOTOMY. Jennifer, you see, has a background as a dancer but isn’t a great skater. Sebastian is shit-hot at skating, but can’t perform. If you could smush them together, they’d be great. But you can’t, so they were both just mediocre.

They couldn’t even match their costumes as well as the two Freddies. The judges just about managed to muster enough enthusiasm to give immunity to Sebastian. And then they had to attempt to be sympathetic towards Corey and Chemmy.

Corey and Chemmy don’t have any confidence, you see, and so they were united in the Duel of Low Self-Esteem. Luckily for Chemmy though, Corey also suffers from severe and long-lasting delusions. He’s under the impression that he can dance and skate, even though he’s still wearing kneepads. Like a toddler. Which is apparently what he is.

Yes, it turns out that Corey is just a great big deluded toddler. After his professional partner wouldn’t bow down to his greater skating wisdom he threw a massive strop and stormed off of the ice. Or just kind of wobbled off of it slowly. It was up to Chemmy to calm him down, which she did very nicely.

And then she shat all over him and got immunity.

Unable to summon up any such drama were Heidi and Charlene, who have both been in the skateoff and are therefore equally, unremarkably god-awful. Still the judges were forced to choose between them, so they gave immunity to Heidi because she’s got better hair. Maybe.

Jorgie and Matt, meanwhile, are both stupidly ridiculously good and so everyone was very excited about their duel. Jorgie had a lift that makes her dizzy and a bit vomitous. Matthew had ruined his back and dropped his partner. It was all INCREDIBLY DRAMATIC.

Then we saw their outfits. Matt had been put in something silver and shiny, and Jorgie was in a spanglebra and leggings. Who cares about skating when you’ve got people dressed like that?! The judges do, apparently. As they chose to give the sacred immunity to Matt, just because they had to give it to someone.

And then there was an anti-climax.

The producers had forgotten about Andy and Rosemary so had to just tack them on the end and hope that everyone hadn’t already switched off. Rosemary hadn’t got through a routine cleanly, but apparently she changed her attitude this week and that helped and now she is better at not falling down. So the judges gave her immunity, leaving six of the celebs facing the public vote.

In the skate-off, the public proved that they don’t like Americans who were famous in the 80s and have names beginning with the letter C, and so left Corey and Charlene in the bottom two. Somewhat inevitably, Corey barely managed to stay upright and got booted off. Which he apparently took VERY SERIOUSLY.

And so, we have lost deluded Corey and his stupid hair but that’s OK, because we’ve still got 11 other bland celebrities to will serious injury and deep humiliation on. We just need to hope that next time they duel, the producers let them have swords. Please, please, give the cretins swords.

Ka-loo ka-lay everyone! It’s almost the end of the week, and just like Lenny Henry tells us on those awful hotel adverts, it’s almost time for the weekend. And what’s a weekend all about? Going out, getting trashed and generally being like those pesky kids from Skins, sitting around in your pants as much as you can in 48 hours.

It’s what sets us aside from the animals y’know. They can’t figure out the little hole bit for willies.

It’d be remiss, and frankly irresponsible of us, as your favourite website of all time ever in the history of Google, to not keep you occupied between your next bottle of something fizzy or yeasty. It’d be like the 1994 film, Baby’s Day Out. You clearly can’t be left to your own devices can you? Sometimes, just sometimes, you actually make us sorry to know you.

So, like sheep to a machine that would slice their throat and ceremoniously bleed them to death, ready to be skinned, chopped and packaged in cellophane for your delectation, this is what you should be watching over the upcoming weekend. Make sure you do watch it mind, there’ll be a quiz afterwards and we wouldn’t want you to look like a dick.

Friday

Martina Cole’s Lady Killers, ITV3, 9:00pm

Serial killers are big business. Knock up a book with a feisty female detective and a particularly gruesome killer and you could be on the Richard and Judy Summer Booklist; a heady accolade indeed. Reading about the reasons behind notorious killings can be entertaining for two reasons: to better understand the human condition and what drives it to such depraved extremes, and to get tips to pull off the perfect crime spree.

So to help us all in our rampages crime writer Martina Cole has created this series about six of the most notorious female killers in history. Tonight is the turn of Myra Hindley. Which is slightly by-the-by to be honest, because the star of the show is Cole herself, who is the exact opposite of what you’d expect a crime writer to be. She’s essentially a female Phil Mitchell. Gruffer than chewing a plate full of pebbles and more mannish than Fatima Whitbread, this woman is something great. Believe.

How The Brits Rocked America: Go West, BBC4, 9:00pm

How great is music from the 60s please?

We could’ve just left our look at BBC4’s Friday night of documentaries at that, because you’re probably already sold and setting your Sky+, but that would be bad journalism and that’s something we strive not to do at HS. Sometimes it just gets away from us, mainly due to Chris Brown saying and doing such stupid things.

The first episode is a new series looking at how British brands broke the illustrious US market in the 60s. So there’ll be lots of footage of The Beatles. Followed up by the also-rans that are The Hollies, Herman’s Hermits and The Animals. With contributions by Sir Paul McCartney, Peter Noone, Donovan and Micky Dolenz, this will be a lovely reminiscent look at an era that changed music forever. Swinging.

Saturday

TOTP2: The 60s, BBC2, 23:35pm

Not only content with watching almost every minute of The Beatles’ career last night, you can also see what else was going on during the 60s in this brain friendly summing up of the main songs to come from the 1960s. So we’re looking at Beat music, the opening shots of the British Invasion, some of the greatest blues music of all time, and psychedelia. We dare you to watch this and not feel a) completely at ease with yourself afterwards, and b) want to cave something sharp into Ed Sheeran’s face for ruining music for everyone.

Look forward to seeing Cilla Black, Dusty Springfield, Tom Jones, Sandie Shaw* (with no shoes probably) and Fleetwood Mac, and literally slatherings of Eurovision.

Airline: The Story Of Pan Am, BBC2, 10:00pm

Pan Am. A name synonymous with glamour and a woman knowing her place, that being at a man’s beckon call. It means a lot of things, to a lot of people. Clever people who know things like history and economy. And luckily for you dense collections of cells, they’ve made a lovely documentary for you to stick your telly balls at. Generous, generous people, them at the BBC. Find out how Pan Am kick started a new age of travel and managed to shrink the World, and made jaunty hats the absolute bee’s knees. Also, Honor Blackman narrates it. She was in The Upper Hand, so that’s got to count for something. It had a McGann in it.

Sunday

The Only Way Is Essex, ITV2, 10:00pm

The hecklerspray bedsit is literally a-buzz this weekend. But aside from the boiler that we can’t afford to get fixed, it’s because we’re all excited about the return of the The Only Way Is Essex in our lives. We love it. The way that they’re all vacuous, spunk trumpets keeps us so entertained week after week.

It’s all go down Essex way with Mark Wright, Harry Derbridge, Kirk Norcross, Maria Fowler and those arseholes Greek twins hanging up their Tanfastic clubcards and handing the reins of crazy orange madness to a massive twelve new cast members. Not much is known about the new additions, because they’ve only recently being let out of their test tubes for filming, but one is bezzie with Rochelle Wiseman, who professionally blows the tall one from JLS, and the other is best friend of Joey Essex. A man so unusually retarded that even dogs can pick things up faster than him. He’s got the intelligence of an orange. Bunch of pricks; entertaining, self hating pricks.

The TV Book Club, More4, 7:10pm

Panel shows are dreadful aren’t they? The way that they are almost exclusively populated by male comedians thinking that they are the funniest people on the planet even though it’s only differing versions of Hugh Dennis and Russell Howard. And the way that they are edited to within an inch of their existence by overzealous producers is sickening. It makes us physically sick. We have to have the sick bucket next to us whenever we attempt to watch Mock The Week.

The TV Book Club is different to the tired format which the BBC wank themselves rare over, and there’s a new series starting on More4, with new Caroline Quentin and Meera Syal joining regular hosts Dave Spikey (urgh) and Laila Rouass (indifferent) to talk about S.J. Watson’s ‘Before I Go To Sleep.’ And without a boss eyed splat of jizz in sight.

* HS FACT: Despite already being called the fantastically geographical Sandy Shore, she wanted to take it to the next level and snared fashion designer and Clothes Show megastar Jeff Banks, and became…DUN DUN DERR…Sandie Banks. FAS-CI-NA-TING.

And-roid Warhol. A psychedelic treehouse. A tank made of cheese. If there were any words we could employ to try and sway you into watching Noel Fielding’s newest “offering”, it would be these.

They show us many, many things. That Noel Fielding is sticking to his tried and tested roots of clashing the realistic with the absurd, with brain warping determination. That he clearly takes himself either far too seriously, or not serious enough. And that there clearly isn’t such a thing as flogging a dead equine.

We all liked The Mighty Boosh, that was unashamedly brilliant [No we didn't. Some of us hated it and everyone who watched it.  Ed]. Everything from the ground to The Moon was dead-on: keep things simple and fun and show everyone why Caroline Quentin probably shouldn’t be in a mismatched family unit. The mixture of boring situations clashing with fantastical characters kept us coming back for more. But Luxury Comedy seems trite and, slightly forced. Watch. Watch us how we’re magically become Noel Fielding.

“Papier-mache hedgehogs burrowing into Dave Carpets The Carpenter Apprentice afro play banjoleles about not being about to return a pair of combats to a shop because the mandatory 28-day guarantee was up.”

It’s as easy as guessing the lie detector results on Jeremy Kyle. Anyone can do it. But Fielding and Barratt (his cohort on The Mighty Boosh) were a living embodiment, almost of the ethos, behind it.

They looked the absurd parts. But with Barratt off fathering twins and doing other more serious things, it lacks the physical oomph that the straight laced, depressing Howard Moon brought. With no grounding force of banality to keep Fielding grounded, it loses some of it’s individuality. Actually, Fielding loses some of his individuality at the same time. Oddly.

The problem is that the formula behind Fielding’s comedy is flawless; take something ordinary and make it look as out of place as possible, then add a dark undertone (which is where the best jokes always lie: just look at Nighty Night – incidentally created by Julian Barratt’s wife, Julia Davis). Which is great.

But eventually, seeing bizarre things becomes routine and ordinary. Which is where Fielding seems to have failed. There was nothing new, or groundbreaking about this foray on a new channel. You can sum it up by one word. One word that Noel Fielding probably never needs to use because all of his clothes seem to look uncomfortable to wear. Like you would want everyone to have a quick peek at your balls.

Unfortunately, and it does hurt us to say this, but Noel Fielding’s Luxury Comedy is stereotyped. You know what you’re getting with it. It does what it says on the tin, except the ‘Comedy’ part. Or the ‘Luxury’.

So ‘Noel Fielding’ then.

Shame. We’ll always have Mod Foxes.

World events they’re fun aren’t they? Well no, not really, but hey at least you can now use IfIDie.net to record an ‘in-case of my accidentally on purpose death please avenge me to the bitter end’ video. Yes that a real thing now. Yes, it does seem like one of those fake adverts from Six Feet Under and yes it is the greatest use of video technology ever created.

We don’t know why bands even try anymore. They can’t even beat an advert for your own death. The 80’s, that’s what the music video was for, signifying an overabundance of crass ideologies, big hair, glittery outfits and the subjugation of women to the simple age when they were just ‘things’.

Did we mention the hair because that’s a pretty important part? Anyway, shall we look at the new releases?

Showing us all how not to do everything is the most boring non-member of Mumford and Sons Laura Marling.

She’s still whacking her hands against that stringed up tissue box and spitting slowly dying cats out of her face. So, obviously you might want to watch this on mute wherein you will transcend yourself and become one of those people who cites Russian Ballet as a hobby.

You scumbags.

If you like dancing, which as a nation we seem to do, then you will find this video exciting. Conforming to the aforementioned law that one of the vital elements for the success of a music video is the objectification of women, the people doing the dancing are of course women and they are of course wearing some unflattering black underwear, but underwear nonetheless; besides it’s black and we all know that means they want to have sex.

Probably with that snazzy man dancer who’s getting all up in their pelvic thrusts. Laura Marling-1, Feminism-0.

The Arctic Monkeys have gone back into the studio. Anybody?

Oh yeah Richard Hawley is there just in case you forgot they were local lads who love local things. Yes, we get it. You’re from Sheffield.

Breaking news coming in as we’re writing! The original Sugababes seem closer than ever to reforming according to one ardent twitter fan and thousands of unassuming idiots. Try not to break a sweat chasing this one round the rumour mill it’s only been a thousand years and a non-existent number of incarnations and counting.

Obviously you’ll be the first to receive a staggering endorsement of their new video from us if this ever happens. Regular service resuming in 5… 4… 3…

Yay The Red Hot Chili Peppers are still around and Anthony Kiedis still has the biggest dick in the business; everybody dance now! Well, you could, but someone decided to take the video offline thanks to copyright issues. WHAT A SHAME. All you’re missing is the usual turgid rubbish, complete with hair. Oh, there’s also a massive dog/penis allegory that’s being waved in the camera for three minutes.

The weekly metal music video to keep you in a state of habitual depression comes courtesy of Mastadon.

Metal can be sensual too is what this says. How? Well that’s a very good question, but here we state a case that it is through the innocence of a woman’s face. Metal-1, Feminism- -1.

Next week we’ll be ditching gender politics and solving the problems that are inherent within society due to the class system and economic policy so be sure to tune in for that and for the latest on what Mutya, Keisha, and the other one are doing.

Plot holes! Popcorn! If you hadn’t guessed, hecklerspray is venturing into the world of film criticism and, as awards season rolls around again with all the depressing monotony of Madonna trying her best to make a movie, we couldn’t have picked a better time to start.

We’ve already seen The Golden Globes pass by like a bus that couldn’t be bothered to hit anyone and The London Critics Circle had an altogether more serious affair for the ‘proper’ films; they’ll be the ones you never saw while you were queuing for tickets to The Inbetweeners Movie.

Now though it’s time for that decrepit golden man to bestow some acclaim on some people who really don’t need anymore; enter Oscar. In other words – let us look at new trailers for new films.

The nominations have been announced to massive sighs from just about everyone other than Michael Hazantthisfilmbeentalkedaboutenoughalreadyvicius who’s silent film The Artist is quickly rising from ‘underdog’ to “Oh my god this is, like, totally amazing and deserving of everything thrown its way,” favourite.

The uncouth Frenchman couldn’t even be bothered to write dialogue and still has a chance of winning best screenplay; will someone alert the academy? They’re probably all so old they didn’t even notice.

If you’re one of those run of the mill: “This Orange Wednesday thing is pretty ground breaking,” type people then you will never have heard of Albert Nobbs which is perfectly fine because it’s not going to win either of the three awards it’s nominated for and it can disappear blissfully back into obscurity. While we’re here though may as well watch the trailer, eh?

As far as we can tell it’s about a gender politics in a bygone era where everybody didn’t really get ’round to shouting HAVE YOU SEEN GLENN CLOSE’S FACE?

Elsewhere, one of the most bizarre decisions was to nominate Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close for best picture, being that nobody really knows or cares anything about it; especially in this country where the marketing campaign is only just getting going.

It has a young wide-eyed boy, Tom Hanks laughing, Sandra Bullock doing ‘the look’, and Max Von Sydow giving Christopher Plummer a run for his money in the old stakes. It’s about 9/11 and pretty much says “This is going to be more epic than Epic Movie”. It also has this:

And now, over to The Help which has a butt-load of nominations.

Hark! A film that tackles racism by succumbing to every lousy racial stereotype there is!

Obviously many other films were nominated for something or other this year and Michael Fassbender’s penis was Shame(fully) ignored. We think Chris Nolan is going to surprise win all the categories despite the scandalous underrepresentation of all the films he didn’t make this year.

It’s disheartening how much that woman isn’t Michelle Rodriguez.

Video games get sequels all the time. We’re near-constantly being beaten around the head with them. Yet, there are few video games that prompt more feverish excitement amongst fans than the Resident Evil series, so let’s have a gander at the trailer for Resident Evil 6 shall we?

The uneducated will confuse this with the trailer for some dreadful Underworld-style actual film, but hardcore Resident Evil fans will be simultaneously excited and dismayed by the teasers for ‘the gaming experience of 2012’ (ie: ‘the gaming experience of four hours of 2012 so they can be the first to post a review on gamefaqs.com’).

Use your bleary, bloodshot eyes to watch the trailer and read our jokes over the jump:

0:11 Oh God it’s Leon from Resident Evils 2 and 4. And he’s still not ditched the whole emo/military thing. Get a haircut Leon.

0:39 The president of the United States informs Leon what a great relationship they have. HE’S JUST LIKE JACK BAUER. Hang on though. Bloody hell, Leon and his hair have now shot the president of the United States. Some random woman is involved. Crackers. This isn’t like 24 at all.

1:11 “90% of the population of Tall Oaks have been infected with the virus. That runs at about 70,000 hostiles.” Says some woman in a Situation Room.

“Yeah, this is Raccoon City all over again.” Says Leon and his hair.

No, this is Resident Evil 2 all over again. Resident Evil 2 was not a good game. Bugger.

1:29 The action has transferred to Japan! Because the Japan bit was the best bit of The Dark Knight! (The Japan bit was not the best bit of The Dark Knight. It wasn’t even in Japan! It was Hong Kong! Pay attention, Capcom!) It’s got Chris Redfield from the first Resident Evil in it! He’s part of some sort of Alpha Team. Oh dear. Fans of the series will know that being part of an Alpha Team is like wearing being beamed down to a planet in Star Trek wearing a red shirt.

2:06 Yeah, Alpha Team seem to meet some terrible grief. Involving Nemesis from Resident Evil 3 by the look. The one no-one enjoyed. Yawn.

2:16 Oh no. Surely not. The squeaky voice… yes, it’s Ashley from Resident Evil 4. Massively annoying, complains-if-you-look-up-her-skirt, only-useful-for-crawling-through-the-very-few0obviously-placed-confined-spaces-in-the-whole-game Ashley. “The world needs you!” She squeaks. Monumentally tiresome Ashley.

2:40 Chris Redfield in full effect! He nearly says “Bitch” but it’s edited. A young male colleague warns him against a “personal vendetta” like he’s Chase Edmunds out of series 3 of 24 or something. And we all know what happened to him. Rumours that you get to chop the cocky little bastard’s hand off yourself are currently unconfirmed by Capcom.

2:47 onwards. Standard scenes to be honest. This viewer could be watching any trailer for anything at all.

Oh do you know what? It’ll be like this – abysmal control system as always, inability to run whilst shooting as always, co-op throughout that no-one wants (even in single player), bunch of hardcore fans going all “it’s not even a Resident Evil game, I liked it when it wasn’t fully-rendered 3D and you had to wait 30 seconds for a door to open on the Dreamcast so the next bunch of gloomy corridors and rooms could load” and otherwise it’ll be brilliant.

Enjoy. Or don’t.