Posts from November, 2007

Good stuff and bad.

Folded:

• Get in shape to get fat at Christmas (www.mansized.co.uk have some top tips for shedding the blubber. They do require getting sweaty, but then most worthwhile things in life do)

• Giant Scorpion fossil found (cool prehistoric sea monster. Where’s that time machine anyway? Can’t anyone build one yet?)

• Still showing - Beowulf (for teens really, but just as much fun as an old Sinbad movie)

• The Japanese Shop (true to cliché, the politest store in the entire world. Wish they sold groceries)

• Flight of the Conchords (not watched much of this yet on BBC4, but it seems chuckle worthy - if a tad über-trendy)

Creased:

• Sean Kingston (maybe they could give this guy some nursery rhymes to sing or something?)

• Buying up cheap Halloween putty (you’ll spot this gloopy gloop in most big supermarkets reduced to about ten pence. Don’t buy a ton of the stuff trying to relive your youth, then have absolutely no idea what to do with it all when you get home and realise you’re not eight years old anymore. That would be very silly)

• The Darjeeling Limited (you would have to be a catastrophic Wes Anderson fan to find this artwank nonsense entertaining)

• The family black sheep (if you are this person then you already know what an arsehole you are. If not, you will no doubt have to deal with this awkward, ignorant, self-obsessed fool on a semi-daily basis)

• Shoppers suffering from pre-Christmas aggression (this is no time to buy a nice bottle of wine or the latest special edition Frijj - people are just not in mood for browsers)

What with the imminant Spice Girls reunion, the accompanying braindead Tesco adverts and the multimillionaire footballer husband, you'd think that Victoria Beckham was probably doing OK for publicity at the moment.

But since we understand that Victoria Beckham's quest for attention won't rest until all TV stations show nothing but an unsmiling image of her face, all newborn babies are genetically altered to look just like her and planet Earth is renamed planet Victoria Beckham Isn't An Idiot Actually, she's not satisfied with any of this. And that's presumably why Victoria Beckham has decided to get naked. However, Victoria Beckham is only getting naked for a new T-shirt design, putting to rest any fears that she's going to strip off in the middle of Picadilly Circus screaming "LOVE ME!" over and over again until she starts crying and someone from St John's Ambulance has to take her for a sit down and a nice cup of tea. 

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Sorry boys, Jennifer Love Hewitt has just got engaged - so the closest you'll ever get to an intimate moment with Jennifer Love Hewitt will remain that time you furtively licked her ear on the DVD cover of Garfield: A Tail Of Two Kitties.

But who is this awful monster who, by getting engaged to Jennifer Love Hewitt, has wrecked your dreams of running your hands through Jennifer Love Hewitt's hair while riding pretty horses together in a rainbow-dappled meadow? Why none other than completely unknown Scottish actor Ross McCall. Still, the least we can do is congratulate Jennifer Love Hewitt and Ross McCall on their engagement. Well, that and fear the day that their offspring is born, because if the genes of the woman from Jackie Chan's worst movie and the man from one episode of Pie In The Sky can't combine to create the world's most powerful super-villain, we don't know what can.

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Talk about political correctness gone mad - what sort of a world do we live in where you can't even pick up a 15-year-old boy during a concert and angrily fling him on top of a girl's head, like Akon did not so long ago?

Poor old squeaky-voiced R&B star Akon is in trouble over the now-classic YouTube incident involving an angry Akon, a terrified 15-year-old boy, a girl with a bump on her head and all three of Newton's laws of motion. Basically Akon picked up a boy during a concert in June, threw him into the crowd, hit a girl on the head with him and is now being charged with endangering the welfare of a minor and second-degree harassment for it. As a result, Akon may be forced to cut back on the stage theatrics and let his songs speak for themselves in the future - something that could destroy his career forever.

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The world may not care that much about Britney Spears as a singer any more, but so long as she's got ovaries constantly on the brink of inflating up another redneck infant and expelling it from her body, she'll never be without attention.

For example, the entire planet is currently frothing around like billyo over speculation that Britney Spears is pregnant with yet another child. But, as we all know, Britney Spears has emphatically refuted these claims as "B.S." So now the magazine that broke the Pregnant Britney Spears story in the first place has gone public with the text messages it claims are from the alleged father, admitting that the pregnancy is real. So what's the truth? Either Britney Spears is pregnant, Britney Spears isn't pregnant or there's a murky, alley-dwelling unlicensed abortionist knocking around somewhere who's sitting on an effing goldmine.

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As far as tortuous puns go, Cattlepult deserves some kind of prize - it's a catapult game that has cows in it. Why? We only wish we bloody knew.

But, naff little cow-flinging concept aside, how does Cattlepult actually play? Heartbreakingly, it plays surprisingly well - all you need to do is flick a bouncing, dynamite-strapped cow at some plates with the aid of various power-up icons. Cattlepult is a simple enough diversion, although we feel we should point out that it isn't one to be reproduced in the real world. We didn't even know the RSPCA had an offender's register.

Play Cattlepult now 

There are a number of things you could ask Curtis '50 Cent' Jackson for advice on.

How to endlessly babble on about that time you got shot, for instance. Or how to sell yourself to as many branding opportunities as possible, to the extent where every slightly dim teenager in the world is decked out in a pair of Fiddy-approved trainers and sipping on a can of Official 'Keeping It Real' Misogyny-Flavour Pepsi.

You wouldn't, however, go asking him any questions about the production of music. Unless, that is, you wanted your new album to sound like his: roughly the same as a slowed-down Geoff Boycott mumbling about bitches over a Casio keyboard 'polka' setting.

It seems like no-one told Lindsay Lohan this.

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Morrissey - the man who appears on the cover of this week's NME spouting enough anti-immigrant polemic to make Anne Widdecombe look like a straggle-haired pot-smoking hippy - has had enough.

According to the NME, Morrissey spent the duration of a recent interview banging on about how crap immigrants are and how England isn't England any more like some of dribble-chinned retired bombardier who's just learnt that three extended Kosovan families have bought the house next door. However, Morrissey seems adamant that that everything in the NME interview is a big fat lie, and so he's followed through on his promise to sue the magazine for everything it owns.

And by 'everything it owns' we mean three Klaxons promo CDs, a sperm-stained poster of The Horrors and as much hair gel as he can possibly eat.

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It's important - in the complex world of dating and relationships - to find someone that you have a lot in common with.

Whether it's romantic walks by the sea, an appreciation of fine wine and foreign cinema, or a big empty space where that brain thing should be (apparently how Peter Andre and Jordan discovered their mutual attraction) it's all about connection. When you find someone who likes the same stuff as you - boy, can those sparks fly.

What if your tastes are a little more specialist, though? What if your favourite thing in the whole wide world is a never-ending television series in which the crew of a spaceship fly around the universe, meet a load of aliens who all happen to speak English with American accents, and then learn some sort of arbitrary lesson five minutes before the end of each episode? What if your first true love is Star Trek?

Then you need Trek Passions in your life.

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By rights, after all this time the only dancers left of Strictly Come Dancing should be the cream of the crop, the cat's pyjamas, the bee's knees, the mutt's nuts, the monkey's junk.

And, not accounting for a couple of mediocrities, that's true. And then there's Kenny Logan - the single most entertaining thing about Strictly Come Dancing. While Bruce Forsyth mangles his jokes, Tess Daly contorts her mouth into all kinds of crazy shapes and Alesha Dixon - ugh - dances well, Kenny Logan has taken the mantle of Strictly Come Dancing underdog. The man can't dance - he refuses to dance - and just wants to stomp around independently of any music that happens to be playing, doing his best to force laserbeams to shoot out of his eyes. In short, Kenny Logan deserves to win Strictly Come Dancing. He won't of course; he's useless.

So who will win Strictly Come Dancing this year? Here are the Strictly Come Dancing betting odds for Kenny Logan, Matt Di Angelo and Alesha Dixon, with help from Paddy Power…

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As far as creepy showbiz fathers go, Jessica's Simpson's dad Joe is right up there with the best of them - especially when it comes to making sure that Daddy's little girl gets laid.

After her marriage to Nick Lachy fell apart due to public scrutiny and her subsequent relationship with John Mayer disintegrated because nobody gave the tiniest of bumsquirts about it, Jessica Simpson has found herself a new man - Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo. And how did Jessica Simpson convince Tony Romo that she was the bright orange man-jaw for him? She didn't - Joe Simpson did. Apparently Joe Simpson was the middle-man who set Jessica and Tony up, and he didn't even charge them a matchmaker fee either. Obviously Joe stipulated that he had to be sitting six inches away from the action when Jessica Simpson and Tony Romo first go at it together, but there's nothing funny about that.

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