Look at Bono singing his heart out, look at Chris Martin putting effort into his performance. Jesus, look at Gary Barlow, he’s brought along some water. And who’s that on the right? It’s Brandon Flowers. He’s a Mormon or something. Look at him. Keep looking at him. Now look at all of them. Keep looking. It’s amazing. Now look away. Now look back. Now away. And back. Away. Back. Away. Back. Away. Back. Away. Away. Ha! Gotcha!

Now be sick.

Of course, after looking at the picture, you need to start questioning what it’s all about. Who could coordinate such a phenomenal collaboration? And, more the point, why? What’s wrong with them? Are they Osama Bin Laden?

Now, we’re not in the habit of sneering at things, but Jesus Christ, look at them! Four awful, awful human beings. We’re one Sting away from staring directly into the eyes of Satan. With that in mind, we decided to play a game we’ve christened ‘The One Bullet Conundrum’. Which of these guys would get it?

Chris Martin

Chris’ number one problem is that he’s a really big Coldplay fan. He loves them, he loves their music, at their gigs he’s always jumping up and down at the front, singing along with all the words. He also dresses like a total cock. The only thing saving Chris from a certain bullet is that there’s someone on stage who’s even more self-important and impossible to like. Chris, you got lucky this time.

Gary Barlow

Gary, for all his faults, seems alright. He’s a bit like an uncle who pops around over Christmas, tells you his boring stories, cracks a stupid joke about stuffing, and then leaves. The minute he disappears from your house, you forget him forever. He’s like a fart that doesn’t smell. An anodyne glass of water of a man, the bullet would probably miss him, because it’s like he’s not really there.

Brandon Flowers

Lots of people absolutely adore The Killers. These are the same people who think that Coldplay are magnificent, that U2 are GODS, and that Keane are this close to making their Joshua Tree. You know them, you might even be friends with them. But you’re not really friends with them are you? Secretly, you hate them, with their never-changing haircuts, and flat-pack girlfriends. They own a Faithless CD, for Christ’s sake. But, lucky for Brandon, this bullet doesn’t have his name on it…

Bono

… and that’s because Bono is there. Big bloody Bono, with his stupid whispering singing voice, and his breakfasts with people who are far more important than him. Bloody Bono. In fairness, the bullet never had a choice.

This was a guest blog by Josh Burt of Interestment. Hooray for bloody him, we say.

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In news which people who like music are describing as “Oh God, really? That’s just awful, is there any way we can stop this? A petition or something? Anything?”, U2 have announced the details of their upcoming tour, during which they are expected to play U2 music while singing U2 lyrics. If that sounds like your cup of tea, then we can only assume you like drinking tea made from poison ivy leaves, with skunk sperm instead of milk and cat dander instead of sugar.

U2 are terrible, is what we’re saying.

Made your summer holiday plans yet? If not, you might want to wait a day or two, because U2 are about to give advance warning of where they will be, and when, over the next eighteen months. And if there’s one thing worse than being in a city full of French people, it’s being in that city while knowing that at any moment Bono’s limousine might go speeding past, and that if the windows aren’t tinted enough you may catch a glimpse of his wizened face looking at you with undisguised disgust, as though you were punching a kitten.

Believe us, we’ve been there. And we had to take our eyeballs out and boil them in bleach for an hour to get rid of the image.

It’s been a funny start to the year for U2 news, with the leaking of their new album, their involvement in a musical about Spiderman and their decision to make a reggae album. We suspect they may be going a little bit crazy, actually; there can be no other explanation for this bucketload of horsewank from The Edge, as told to MSNBC:

“There’s such a special thing that goes on between the band and the audience at a U2 show, and we never get tired of that. It’s like a kind of semireligious experience for the band, and I think for the audience, too.”

Yes, U2 believe that watching some middle-aged pubrockers jump out of a giant lemon and then nonce around on stage for a couple of hours is on a par with being overcome by the awesome majesty and supreme love of God. We would disagree, and suggest that it is in fact on the same level as having a cheese grater rubbed across your brain while the Miami Dolphins punting team holds a practice session with your testicles.

But The Edge goes on:

“For a lot of people it’s the soundtrack of their lives.”

There are people for whom U2 is their life’s soundtrack? If that were us, we’d be sticking little twigs down our ears, trying to pull our eardrums out. But hey, whatever floats your boat.

Although if we were on a sinking boat and were told that, oddly, the only way to stop ourselves from drowning was to invite U2 on board, we’d be slashing the lifejackets with a stanley knife, grabbing hold of anything heavier than water and leaping over the side.

U2 are rubbish, do you see?

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If you’re in the second group, start digging your bunker now. It’s been reported that U2 aren’t content to limit their experimentalism to simply releasing grammatically-incorrect concept albums about footwear – they’re bringing out a reggae album soon, too.

A terrible idea, we know, but it’ll be worth it when U2 tour. You don’t see 50-year-old Irish midgets follow up impassioned IRA songs by saying “This next song’s called Demma Bad Bwoi Duppy Man Ting (Irie Pussyclot Ting),” too often, do you?

Look, we started this short-hair Bono thing for a bit of fun – we said that when Bono’s got long hair U2 release best-selling anthems about the enduring hope at the core of the human condition, but when he’s got short hair they release crap that sounds like it was stolen from an EMF B-side – but it’s becoming clear that the whole thing’s got beyond a joke now.

The first sign was U2’s Get On Your Boots single, in that it sounds like a novelty grunge cover of We Didn’t Start The Fire and that Bono’s look for its promotion seems to be based on Johnny Vegas‘ dad. And then we found out that the U2 Spider-Man musical wasn’t the cruel wind-up that we suspected it to be.

But now? Now we’ve really entered the world of nightmares. Previously the worst of U2’s zany excesses involved emerging onto stages through giant glittery lemons, but now they’ve shot so far past it that it’s unreal – U2 have recorded a reggae album. And, get this, they’re actually going to release it. News Of The World reports:

It’s a Beautiful Day when I can dish out the biggest goss from inside the U2 camp – the boys have secretly recorded a brand new reggae/dub album. The supergroup recorded the album in secret during the sessions for cracking new disc, No Line On The Horizon, and they’ll unleash it onto the world at the start of next year.

You know what this means. It means that U2 have run out of ideas to such an alarming extent that they’ve now been reduced to ripping off Paris Hilton. What an upsetting state of affairs.

But, come on now, let’s not make this news make us too depressed, shall we? Dwell on the thought of Bono poncing around a stage in a dreadlocked wig singing about Babylon and Haile Selassie and correct dutchie-passing etiquette in a borderline racist Desmond’s accent for too long and you’ll probably end up hurling yourself under the nearest train.

Because there are positives to this as well, you know. For instance, since dub reggae isn’t really known for its lyrics, there’s a pretty good chance that the new U2 album won’t feature Bono prattling on about his shimmering cities of uplifting emotions like a weird Gollumy mid-life crisis motivational speaker too much.

And, best of all, once U2 have released this album people can start to go back to not liking them very much again. And thus the world restores its balance.

Read more:

U2’s Secret New Album – News Of The World

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The U2 Spider-Man musical is happening. Despite being the weirdest thing ever been announced, the Spider-Man Broadway musical – with music by U2’s Bono and The Edge – will open in New York next January.

That’s right – the Spider-Man musical is by Bono and The Edge. But don’t worry about the other two – Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr will be debuting their new Condorman musical next February outside the Basingstoke branch of Clinton’s Cards. At 4am. Drunk.

Dear God, this new U2 album is going to be worse than anyone could have possibly imagined. As we’ve already stated, No Line On The Horizon is a short-hair Bono album – which means there are less uplifting songs about shimmering cities and more woeful dirges that sound like We Didn’t Start The Fire but are exclusively about footwear. But this short-hair Bononess goes even deeper.

It also extends to members of U2 writing songs about superheroes. The last time U2 did this, they wrote Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me for that cacky Val Kilmer Batman film and it was horrible. And now they’re at it again, this time putting together an entire Broadway musical based on Spider-Man.

This isn’t news in itself – we reported on the U2 Spider-Man musical back in 2007 – but what is news is that a) the thing actually exists and wasn’t just a cruel prank to drive the weak-minded to the brink of suicide and b) it’s going to open on Broadway in less than a year. Really. Newsday reports:

With new music and lyrics by Bono and The Edge, and direction by Julie Taymor (”The Lion King”), “Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark” will begin previews Jan. 16. (The subtitle is the name of one of the show’s songs.) Members of the creative team include choreographer Daniel Ezralow, set designer George Tsypin (”The Little Mermaid”) and costume designer Eiko Ishioka (opening ceremonies for the Beijing Olympics).

Wow, this Spider-Man musical is going to be spectacular. We don’t know about you, but the costumes were the best bit of the Beijing Olympic opening ceremony. Not the million drummers drumming in perfect synchronicity. Not the bit where the man ran around the side of the stadium with a flaming torch. Not the bit with the magical floating dust that formed a giant version of the Olympic rings. The costumes. If we could remember what they looked like, we’re sure they’d be ace.

Anyway, the Spider-Man musical is going to be one of the most expensive in history, so there’s a chance it’ll be a major success and go on to be U2’s enduring legacy, like Mamma Mia is for Abba. Who knows, it might even equal the success of Mamma Mia and get turned into a Mamma Mia-style movie.

After all, if we have to remember Bono at all, we’d like it to be by the way he had a bunch of his hokey songs absolutely massacred by Pierce Brosnan’s foghorn voice. It’d be better than Spider-Man 3, anyway.

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Hey hang on a minute! U2 already are basically a group of old men repeating themselves time after time! Well that’s our opening line buggered up, then. Anyway, if you want to see U2 even more decrepit and creatively strapped than they already are, then you’re in for a treat – U2 are never splitting up. Ever.

It’s true – The Edge said so. And you shouldn’t doubt a man named after a horticultural barrier, because that’d be stupid.

These are testing times for U2. Their new album No Line On The Horizon marks a serious departure for the band, because Bono’s had his hair cut for it. And that’s risky. Honestly.

People knew where they were with long-hair Bono – uplifting lyrics, songs that all sound like much-worse versions of Where The Streets Have No Name and iPod commercials. But short-hair Bono? Jesus, that’s much worse. That’s songs with no melody, giant glittery lemons and – gulp – artistic exploration. We know. It’s horrifying.

But that’s what No Line On The Horizon is – a short-hair Bono album. That’s why new single Get On Your Boots sounds like an unholy mix of We Didn’t Start The Fire, this song and U2 when nobody liked them. And it’s why people have started speculating about when U2 will split up.

Actually, that’s a gigantic lie. Nobody has started speculating about when U2 will split up, but the News Of The World asked The Edge about it anyway, probably because it was trapped in an awkward social situation with him, and asking about U2 splitting up is marginally more polite than blurting out “Why do you always wear a hat, The Edge? Is it because you’re a BLOODY SLAPHEAD?”. Anyway, this is how The Edge replied:

“If Bono was ever going to leave U2 he would have done it years ago. We’ve got too much music left in us anyway.” Afterwards The Edge — real name DAVID EVANS — spoke about their new album, No Line On The Horizon. “We’re so proud of the latest record,” he beamed. “It’s the best music we’ve ever produced — definitely back to U2’s roots this time.”

Of course Bono’s not going to leave U2. That’d be ludicrous – not only would most employers take a dim view if presented with a CV that included ‘Going “doo doo doo” on an advert for an MP3 player’ and ‘Having a made-up name’ but also, in The Edge and The Other Two, Bono has chanced upon the only three people in the world who don’t feeling like punching him square in the face after a spending a couple of seconds in his company.

So without a split in the foreseeable future, it looks like we’ll all get to look forward to the day where U2’s stage performance involves Bono hobbling about like Old Man Steptoe and… oh, wait, we’ve confused the future with the present again. We did see The Brits last week, after all.

Read more:

No Split On The Horizon – News Of The World

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Bono and the other members of U2 have been threatening to release No Line On The Horizon for a while now and finally they’ve delivered the bombshell with a March 19 2009 release. Is one new release bad enough? No, Bono has to be an extravagant twat and release it five bloody times.

Of course this isn’t a move designed to fill the bands pockets with enough cash to enjoy a lifetime supply of potatoes and Guinness. No, surely releasing the same product five different times is a celebration of all things U2 and a test to see who’d actually buy the same crap again and again. Think of it as an intelligence test without having to work out which funny shape connects the pattern.

Once people either download it illegally or stump up some cash for the bog-standard CD version, what’s going to be so special about the new album No Line On The Horizon? We have some suggestions of what we’d like to see included with the album. You know, just so Bono and the rest of his merry band of rockers can disappear further up their own arses as they rejoice together for pushing the boundaries of album packaging and superfluous additional extras.

For £20 extra, an interview with the band’s creator Larry Mullen, Jr. It would be nice to hear what he thinks. As we all know, Bono just takes over all conversation and namedrops his mates such as the Pope and Bill Clinton.

For £40 extra, a replica copy of Bono’s magical sunglasses. Maybe we’ll be able to tell if they source his power and make him act like the moron we know and love.

For £100 extra, a used hat from The Edge.

Whilst we know they’d go down stupidly well with the legions of U2 stalker fans, it seems that their record company don’t see things like us. As the NME reports, the additional three versions aren’t anything like ours:

“The digi-pack version offers the full album along with a 36-page booklet, a fold-out poster and a downloadable film by Corbijn, featuring the music of U2. A magazine version of the album comes with a 60-page soft cover magazine-style book, along with the Corbijn film as a download. The most excessive of the five releases is the box set, which features a 60-page hardback book, a second poster and a DVD version of Corbijn’s film.”

Oh wow! A poster! Something that’s printed on paper! For hours on end, we can stare in utter awe at a picture of bloody U2. Who would have thought a band would ever think of releasing pictures of themselves in moody looking poses as they stand against a backdrop of a beach, coffee shop or burning car?

And a U2 magazine? We shudder to think what crap they’ll use to fill 60 pages with. Perhaps loads of photos of their faces with captions like ‘We are brilliant’ ‘Feel the love’ and ‘Don’t eat Irish pork’.

Whatever the case, we at least know of one album that won’t feature in our 2009 best-of list. If we wanted to listen to the older generation babbling on about non-important issues, we’d check into an old folk’s home. At least there they might have cool stories about war and stuff.

9 - Is it just us, or is Kanye West’s new album not very good? - Pitchfork

8 – Why Stu’s beard rocked, despite popular opinion - Biggerbetterbeard

7 – A song about Paris Hilton being president, performed by Paris Hilton. We’re so tired that we can’t even tell if this is a joke or not any more - Popjustice

6 - Toffee apples! - Instructables

5 - Famous people on the internet. Now no longer famous. Mostly - MSN

4 - Oh, Bono! - Dailymail

3 - It Will Kill You Lite: Alligator edition – Nothingtoxic

2 - A kid’s book based on Bob Dylan songs. Not nearly as awful as it sounds – Drawn

1 - The man from 30 Rock is basically identical to the man in 30 Rock - New York

Had a kid – that’s the one. We even told you about the pregnancy, as we’re nice.

This newest one brings his tally up to three of the little blighters, meaning Matt Damon is now the (presumably) proud father of three daughters, the newest one to the clan being named, in a trademark celebrity cruel-o-fashion, Gia Zavala. Oh well, at least it isn’t a new brand of carpet or anything.

Luciana Damon, Matt’s wife no less, is originally from Argentina though so there’s a possible explanation for the name there. Maybe they aren’t as cruel as we initially thought…

Nevertheless, there is a new sprog to add to the pile and surely some money to be made from the pictures that will inevitably get sold off to the highest bidder, as we all know. Unless, of course, Matt exercises some show of integrity and doesn’t force his newest daughter to become a mercenary from birth.

But we cannot judge every celebrity that decides to use their gametes to make new people with the same judging stick we use on everybody’s favourite celebs Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. For maybe – just maybe – there may be a family in the spotlight that manages to retain some semblance of normality.

One that doesn’t feel the need to adopt everyone from everywhere, join whatever fashionable religion is passing by that looks cool or sell their own children out for some quick kudos points. Like we said – maybe. As in: ‘most likely not though’.

We can live in hope. The fact that the birth of the new Damon wasn’t announced with a huge amount of fanfare can give us all some extra faith that maybe, just possibly, this may mark a new beginning in the world of celebrity births. That the kids won’t immediately be whored out. That we can look at genuine news publications without being confronted by the images of some fleshy little bags that we can’t tell apart.

This is the world we want to live in, and this is the world that Matt Damon can help to create. Hopefully.

Speaking to E! Online, Matty uttered the following – possibly while looking disheveled and scared (but still sexy), and unfortunately not covering whether or not he would be changing the world as we know it:

“I’m so outnumbered down here, it’s crazy.”

Fortunately Matt’s Bourne training can come into play if the four girls ever get out of hand. A swift book to the throat is sure to calm any rowdy family down, that’s for sure. Not that we’d condone that kind of behaviour of course, we’re merely stating a known fact.

Reports that Bono is said to be eyeing up another godfathering role are said to be grossly exaggerated. Obviously that is the point when we’d start condoning the use of Bourne-like force to stop someone in their tracks.

Wow – imagine hitting that Irish prat with a book. It would be a dream come true.

Starring himself and a whole host of people who appeared solely to boost their ‘caring profile’, Bono told us that ‘every time I and my mates click their fingers, an African child will die’. There was, of course, a simple solution to this: stop bloody doing it – don’t abuse your weird powers.

Aside from his world-saving duties, Bono likes to occasionally rock out with a little known Irish band called U2. Though named after some awful text speak, critics are saying the band could someday be big, if Bono himself were to shut up telling everyone off all the time and dictating to us, the lowly public, what we should do in life to save the universe.

Thankfully some people want to stop Bono bleating on and have launched a petition to stop him. We’re not sure how they intend to stop him, but hopefully it won’t be by freezing him. This would, of course, leave the possibility open for him to be thawed out in 3000 years. Imagine the unfortunate luck for the poor sods then. And would Bono be able to operate a flying car?

Let’s face it: if God wanted the planet to be saved, he would have enlisted the help of someone by now. That someone would most likely be Captain Planet. Remember that bluey-green git? He probably made an appearance at your school when you were little, though you probably missed him due to being sick from evil smoke fumes. Failing that, you watched him on TV doing battle against smog from Middlesbrough, greenhouses gases and those plastic rings from beer cans that fish stupidly get caught in.

It would seem, however, that the time hasn’t yet arrived for a green haired bloke to save the world from warming up and making sure polar bears don’t fall in to the sea, or get loose on the Lost island.

So why has Bono decided to do Captain Planet’s job for him a bit prematurely? Well the answer is simple: when our young Irish lad was watching Cap’s cartoon, he somehow fell over and bumped his head, which clearly triggered some sort of mental illness, making him take on impossible tasks and annoy thousands upon millions of people. ‘Bonoitis’, possibly.

According to the NME, the catchy sounding petition “Bono – retire from public life and we’ll donate a ton of money to fight AIDS” has been launched on thepoint.com. The aim and objectives of this crusade are as follows:

“To get Bono to retire from public life (so he’ll stop leading misguided counter-productive philanthropy efforts) and, simultaneously to make a huge donation to fight AIDS.”

Ace – that’s a win for everyone then. Bono gets to bugger off and do some crap records, while at the same time bundles of money get thrown to AIDS charities. But is everything that easy? Of course it isn’t. Despite raising a small amount of cash so far, which is sure to grow, the money will only be donated depending on the success of the campaign. We’re presuming that ’success’ is nothing less then actual retirement from the public eye for Bono.

Hmm… if it’s that easy to start online petitions then exciting and crazy thoughts are going through our heads. We’ll donate our weekly lunch money total to anyone who can persuade Chris Morris to come in from the wilderness and make us laugh again. Because lets face it, people like Lenny Henry make us want to cry and burn down Premier Travel Inns.

Sign The Petition If You Want:
Make Bono History

Well, you’re wrong. Because they’ve finally gone and released pictures of the A-list couple’s bundle of gametes – though fortunately there doesn’t seem to be a Bono in sight. That would be too much.

Popping up on Hello! and People over the weekend, the images show… some famous people with their newborn kids. Seriously – what did you expect? Hecklerspray hoped the photos would include explosions, a car chase et al, but those hopes were well and truly dashed on their release. Typical.

And to confound matters further it gets leaked that these pictures cost the magazines $14 million dollars. Now, granted, that’s only about £20 with today’s exchange rate – but the fact remains that a staggering amount of cashmoney was paid for some pictures. Of some young children. To show to people who have no actual connection with said children.

Rather than getting annoyed at Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, for once we’re going to turn and pour scorn on everyone else in the world. Because, apparently, we live in a world where it is a sound business practice to pay fourteen million dollars for some pictures of some kids. Christ – we can’t even be annoyed at mum and dad as they’ve gone and donated their fee to charity, rather than throw it on their Scrooge McDuck-sized pile.

After the four-decade pregnancy, the ‘has she-hasn’t she had them’ crap that circulated when the couple ran off to France followed by the frighteningly standard names dished out to the sprogs, it comes as something of a disappointment that Brad and Angelina can’t top the whole saga off with a grand gesture.

Not that donating $14 million to charity isn’t a grand gesture – we just mean a grand gesture that we’d like to see. Like giving their good pals hecklerspray a few million to cover the bills (credit crunch, you see). Or by using the money to have a giant cannon built on the top of a mountain, which could be used to shoot any country seen to be being nasty to its orphans. That’s certainly something Brad and Angelina seem to care about, plus it’s entertaining enough to make other people in the world care.

But no – it’s been, gone and ended up in some charity coffers. So all we can do is point our accusing, sardonic finger in the direction of the stinking, smelly media. The media who will pay fourteen million dollars for some light captured on a digital imaging chip after it has reflected off the noggins of two famous people and the creased-up meatwads they have just birthed. This is the kind of world we live in.

The kind of world where Bono is not only allowed to be said meatwads’ godfather, but also the kind of world where he is allowed to go on living. There are some things in this world that just make you want to break down and openly weep. In public. While naked. At rush hour.

This is probably the best example we’ve ever come across.

Bono would be a terrible godfather. The worst. Imagine it. Instead of going to the zoo he’d take you for a day out to an audiovisual lecture on Third World tuberculosis. Imagine it. “What birthday present have you got me this year, Bono? Oh, a beehive for an African village? Another one? You shouldn’t have.”

But tell that to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie – they’ve apparently asked Bono to be their newborn twins’ godfather. It might seem like a clever, worthy thing to do now, but heed this Brad Pitt – the day that little Knox Leon barges in prattling on about Burmese monks when you’re busy trying to complete Call Of Duty 4, there’ll be nobody to blame but yourself.

Really and honestly, men are only asked to be godfathers if a) the mother suspects that they’re actually the baby’s real father or b) the parents want to look all smug and superior in front of everyone.

Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have reportedly asked Bono to be the godfather of their new twins. So there’s no need to guess what their rationale is, is there?

That’s right. Bono. The man so shudderingly self-important that not even all his relentless humanitarian work can convince most of the world that he’s not a dick. The poverty campaigner who buys first class air tickets for his hats. The man who’d probably organise an all-star charity concert for your lost car keys if he thought there was a sniff of a Nobel Prize in it. He’s actually going to be godfather to some children.

God, those poor kids are screwed, aren’t they? Not only have they got Angelina Jolie for a mother – a woman so hands-on in her humanitarian efforts that when she sees a problem her first reaction is to bring it home, give it a silly name and raise it as her own – but now they’ll have Bono as a babysitter too.

Poor Knox Leon and Vivienne Marcheline are either going to grow up with gigantic self-esteem issues because they’ll never be able to compare to their perfect parents and godparents, or they’ll become some of those annoying rich kids who only wear hemp and bang on forever about their gap year in a Afghan commune and how really authentic and spiritual it was. They’re effed either way. Digital Spy reports:

“Brad and Angie think the world of Bono. They have been friends for years. Brad is a massive U2 fan and told Bono how much he admired him when they were introduced at a party a few years back. Since then, they’ve become very close, which Brad is thrilled about. Angelina is inspired by Bono’s humanitarian work and gets on with his wife Ali Hewson.”

Notice that Bono wasn’t asked to be the godfather to any of Angelina Jolie’s adopted kids. They’ve all already come from a place of great suffering, you see, while the twins were born into a life of privilege. The only way Knox and Vivienne will experience an equivalent level of suffering is if they’re forced to listen to Bono yip on about AIDS into their tiny faces for a few hours every week.

Of course, there’s always a possibility that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie only asked Bono to be their twins’ godfather so that he’ll appear in their exclusive magazine covershoot photos.

It’s a good idea – the presence of a balding, middle-aged, dot-eyed Irishman in a photo featuring Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie and two of their biological children would really bring down the image’s mean level of otherworldly beauty, wouldn’t it? Normal humans might even be able to look at it without falling to their knees in raptures.

We’d do anything to help you out. Say you thought some Russian military types had tampered with your food; we’d be there to help you. Sure, we’d be putting our own life at risk as we gingerly slurped your tomato soup, but we love you and would never turn down your request.

However, there are some factors that we can’t control: famine, Bono, global warming and hay fever (oh dear God the hay fever). At first the problem is confined to one area, but it then slowly spreads around the world. Look at Bono – Ireland suffered for so long until he was unleashed to the world.

Now it’s England’s turn to unleash one of their ropiest creations, this time on an unsuspecting America. Lily Allen has been granted a visa. Batten down the hatches, quick!

Lily’s cheeky chirpy cockney songs have never been off radio and TV stations in England. Most of the time it’s a lucky dip to see if Smile or LDN is going to be played next. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t every ten minutes or so.

But then, would the public like to hear a makeshift hecklerspray band doing a freestyle jam on a few metal cans and coat hangers? No, probably not.

In-between writing and recording her second album, Lily has been doing other stuff as well. You see, she’s not like the other one dimensional singers without a soul or conscience. She can do more than pout and attempt to look sexy – Lily can present too! Well, that’s what BBC 3 believes anyway.

Some genius came up with the Lily Allen and Friends show. A programme where a few celebrity people come on to plug a TV show or product they’re involved with.

In-between all of the ker-azy chat comes the part of the show that makes up about 89% of the content, the always reliable feature: “clips from the internet showcasing wacky people which means I can sit on my arse and do fuck all for a bit,” used every week. Honestly, we’d never seen the Chocolate Rain man before. We are so thankful. The show really is worth the license fee alone to watch TV content which comes from YouTube.

For some time now, Lily’s wild child antics have seen her banned from America. Having the odd drink doesn’t seem to be a popular thing with Uncle Sam and her persistent drunken nights out haven’t helped. For a long time she’s been banned from the land of obesity and Maury. Now Magazine reports:

“Lily had to have her pee regularly checked and then blood tests on top to prove she wasn’t on drugs before the US government would give her a working visa.”

We just feel sorry for the poor sod that had to check her piss. How this was done we aren’t sure, but we’re willing to bet it was all down to the texture and aroma of the urine. But that doesn’t matter now; she’s got the visa, and she was reported as feeling:

“Chuffed.”

Though we would like to remind US visa officials of her odd antics at last week’s Glamour awards. She clearly wasn’t sticking to tap water or lemonade during the ceremony and looked slightly worse for wear. This will probably scare the shit out of the people who gave her legal permission to visit America.

Have fun with her in the USA. And don’t feel inclined to send her back anytime soon.

OK, OK, yeahyeahyeah, it’s only going to happen in a movie, but sometimes life imitates art, right? Right? Right. We can but hope. Our fingers remain firmly crossed.

Borrell is to star in the new film by Antonia Bird and Irvine Welsh, named The Meat Trade, and will be killed by two grave robbers, played by Robert Carlyle and Colin Firth. Jonathan Edward told the Daily Star:

"It's going to be so much fun. I love horror and I'm a really big fan of Irvine Welsh's work. I loved Trainspotting."

Oh, it’s horror! There should be lots of blood then. Let’s hope Antonia and Irvine get twat number one, Bono, involved. And Keane. And The Feeling. Oh, please The Feeling. And why not stab Luke Pritchard of The Kooks in the mouth with a rusty screwdriver while you’re at it? Why not?

The film is about two body snatchers snatching bodies in Edinburgh and should be released sometime next year. Hecklerspray waits with baited breath. But how will Borrell die, Irvine?

Hecklerspray likes to think Carlyle and Firth will recruit sometime actor Bob Dylan to do this excellent deed. On the release of his band’s debut, Up All Night, Borrell spouted some awful shit out of his mouth-arsehole which decided it was better than Dylan’s first album proper. Get your own back, Bob. But do it for real like Brandon Lee. Come on. Be a sport.

Or, if Bob can’t be reached for some reason, why not contact Morrissey? Borrell did “feel sorry” for Moz when he somehow didn’t manage to draw as big a crowd at V Festival a few years back. People really are stupid.

You are now officially 87% stupider if you voluntarily listen to Johnny Borrell’s arsehole gibberings with feelings of enjoyment. Really. They’ve done tests and everything. We don’t know who “they” are but we’re sure these tests have been done. Kind of.

Too harsh? Not harsh enough we say.

Release Mark Chapman already.

Read more:

Johnny Borrell To Be Murdered In New Movie – AngryApe 

After all, there are so many other things like U2 could be doing, like saving Africa or ending poverty or halting climate change or having a lovely bath or paying someone to mash their food up in a bowl for them or dicking around Dublin in silly hats.

But no. Instead U2 have signed a deal with Live Nation. A 12-year deal. 12 years. 12 more years of U2. 12 cocking years of U bastard 2 flying around the world and being all smug and singing their rubbish songs. Thrilled. Seriously.

Rude bastard, that Bono. Bono was Time's Man Of The Year a while back and he's been given an honorary knighthood. But neither of these were for his music, because any old sod can rhyme 'fly' and 'high' and 'sky' and wear a pair of fancy sunglasses. Instead Bono won these awards for literally being the only man on the planet who ever does any good stuff or helps people or understands the poor. Literally.

So if you were Bono, wouldn't you consider it rude to have to stop literally saving the world from evil and poverty and destruction and badness every few years to get together with U2 to record a bunch of songs that all mostly sound the same and then jet around the world singing them over and over again while the world literally gets noticeably worse because you're not literally holding it together with your fingernails?

Actually, it doesn't matter what you think because thankfully there's only one Bono around, and that's Bono. And Bono obviously doesn't consider it rude to neglect the world while he tits around with U2 because U2 have just signed a 12-year deal with Live Nation. BBC reports:

Irish rockers U2 have signed a 12-year deal with concert promoter Live Nation to handle the band's merchandising, digital and branding rights… U2 will continue to release records through Universal Music. "We've been dating for over 20 years now," said singer Bono. "It's about time we tied the knot." Live Nation has managed U2's tours since 1980.  Financial details of the deal have not been disclosed. "U2 are doing their best work right now, on record and in concert," said the band's manager Paul McGuinness. "The opportunity to integrate U2 and Live Nation's vision of the future is a great extension of our established business."

Think of how old you'll be in 12 years. Maybe you'll have children by then. Maybe, if you've got children, they'll have moved out of home. Maybe you'll be promoted, headhunted, demoted, fired or diagnosed with a horrible illness by then. Maybe there'll be a war, or a flood, or an asteroid attack. You'll almost certainly be balder. But at least now you know that there'll be a constant. A tiny Irish constant that wears sunglasses indoors and keeps banging on about Africa and releasing records that sound identical to the last album it released. U2 will be your constant. What a shit constant.

More worrying, though, is the emerging pattern from Live Nation. First it takes Madonna – an artist who everyone thought was on the brink of retirement – and gives her loads of money to keep performing for another decade. And now it's done the same thing with U2 – an act who've already been together for 32 years. Live Nation, we're warning you now – if you so much as think about talking to Bon Jovi, we're going to really be rather upset.

Read more:

U2 sign 12-year Live Nation deal – BBC 

Bono, who is renowned for his messianic charisma and rumoured to heal the blind just with his touch, was criticised by Selassie for not involving grassroots African organisations and saying that such half-baked charity endeavours such as Live Aid are detrimental to the future of Africa. 

African Aid Action chief Selasie said:

"You can't impose change from without. It has to come from within and we won't end poverty with handouts."

Well, we're sure the celebrity multi-millionaire and tax evader philanthropist's friends will disagree, such as war-mongering President George Bush, who supported Bono's efforts at ending world hunger and violence by inviting him for dinner a few years back.

Don't worry Bono, a few more concerts with a range of spoilt and mediocre musicians will put any criticism from real charity workers to bed.

Read more:

Bono and Bob Geldof increase Africa's problems say charity – NME

[story by Paul McLoughlin]