Panto season must be upon us, as formerly-relevant perplexing poltroon and peddler of pretend-angst Brian Hugh Warner has once again unveiled his Halloween-night-Lily-Savage alter-ego ‘Marilyn Manson’ in an unsuccessful attempt to outrage/impress anyone who still gives two hoots during a boozy night out in Las Vegas.

The vain attempt to appear partially interesting involved Brian going out on the lash in the Born And Raised bar in suburban Vegas – basically a provincial Yates’s from what we can gather. This was after, we assume, getting turned-away from any ‘real’ bars on the Strip all of whom have a strict “no wankers” policy. Luckily Brian managed to make himself look like the utter weapon he is.

Highlights of the evening, courtesy of the man determined to turn his previously imagined reputation of ‘controversial’ into that of stone-cold-fact ‘tiresome’, include:

• Drinking absinthe, because Baudelaire did so it’s, like, totally cool, cultured and ‘out-there’. Like the kerr-razy dude he is. On-lookers shrugged, we imagine. Not remembering he unsuccessfully launched his own brand of ‘Mansinthe’ in 2008 (REALLY), which was variously described as being “as bad as piss” (True).
• Manning the karaoke machine and singing ‘Cry Me A River’ by Justin Timberlake. SIX bloody TIMES IN A ROW LIKE SOME SORT OF WOMAN WITH EMOTIONS AND THINGS.
• Getting into the wrong limousine at the end of the night and getting hoyed-out of it – basically the equivalent of unsuccessfully trying to jump somebody else’s taxi, a ritual we are all familiar with.
• Ostentatiously brandishing a knife while awaiting the arrival of his own taxi/limo.

The latter is- of course- forgivable if one is a fifteen-year old wannabe hard-man trying to impress your mates after your first proper belly-full of Diamond White. You know, whilst ‘having it large’ in your local graveyard after everyone has told their parents they are spending the evening round each others’ houses? It’s pretty wearying if you are a 42-year old man named Brian.

It is widely reported (by us) that Brian tried to justify this wholly underwhelming spectacle by saying “Sorry I went nuts, but I’m a rock star!” to anyone listening.

His ‘rock star’ allegation was made despite all evidence to the contrary including, but not limited to – no major label contract, no album out in recent memory, not being Trent Reznor, no tour that anyone can remember and even his target audience of adolescent emo kids finding him a bit embarrassing.

Rumours that Brian Hugh Warner currently resides in his mother’s box-room and has been getting grief for stealing her concealer are unconfirmed at time of publication.

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My Chemical Romance – the Soda Stream of Rock (tasteless, full of gas and depressingly disappointing) – are having a typically overwrought time of it at the moment and no amount of self-harming is going to get them out of this drama.

See, they’ve had to sack their drummer who you’ve never heard of. Why? Because he’s been stealing from the group.

But what has he stolen? There wasn’t any musical ability to take, but a sacking means that it was more precious than even that! We’ve got an idea…

The drummer, with the exciting name of Michael Pedicone (which means ‘man who has unlawful sex with underage geometric conoids), has been fired after the terrible band claimed that he’d been “caught stealing”, just like a Jane’s Addiction song.

After a year putting up with staring at Gerard Way’s anus, he’s been replaced by the unfortunate Dead Country sticksman Jarrod Alexander.

Guitarist Frank Iero says:

“Some shit happened last night. The relationship between My Chemical Romance and Michael Pedicone is over. He was caught red-handed stealing from the band and confessed to police after our show last night in Auburn, Washington. We are heartbroken and sick to our stomachs over this entire situation.”

Pedicone says:

“What happened is more complicated than it sounds but I did make a mistake. It was never my intention to hurt this band or all of you … It was an error in judgment based on a whole other situation that’s way deeper, but this does not define me.”

So what did he steal? Well, we have an inkling that My Chemical Romance are avid bottle collectors and Pedicone tried to take one of them to use for his bottles of squash that he likes to drink on-stage.

As you can see from this video, MCR are so keen on bottles that fans are desperate to add to their collection, even as they play.

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At hecklerspray, we like to take real celebrity news and mangle it until it barely resembles the original source material and then watch on and laugh as people take our word as gospel. Sometimes though, there are so many possible corruptions of a story that we’re forced to decide on just one. The others that are rejected instantly go into a state of depressive rage and begin to tear away at the backs of our minds until we eventually self-harm.

In an effort to stop that happening, this story contains 3 mini stories. Think of it as your favourite sitcom doing a clip show because they’ve run out of ideas or, if you will, the last two seasons of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. This is slightly different of course, we have too many ideas.

The fact of the matter is that Green Day front-berk Billie Joe Armstrong was thrown off an internal American flight because his trousers were hanging too low and he questioned the Flight Attendant who told him to pull them up. In all honesty, that’s kind of fair enough. It is every 39 year old’s right to wear his trousers round his thighs if he wants. You’re only as old as you feel and Billie Joe obviously feels 13.

However, what if there were other reasons he was thrown off? Here’s five possible suggestions:

Using His Guy-Liner As A Weapon

Billie Joe’s love of male eyeliner (hilariously marketed as guy-liner) is obvious to anyone that isn’t a simpering teenager who wishes that he was either sleeping with them or sleeping with their mum. Being a man approaching 40, Billie Joe’s love of makeup doesn’t seem to be passing. Perhaps the Flight Attendant pointed out that he looked like an emo child with millions of dollars to blow on makeup pencil sharpeners.

We know that if we were in the same position, we’d threaten to stab someone who pointed out how silly we looked.

Doing “A Depardieu”

It’s obvious by Billie Joe’s eyeliner that he just desperately wants to be cool. In fact, he wants to be cool so desperately that he is willing to relieve himself in full view of his fellow passengers in an effort to mimic the effortlessly cool (and slightly eccentric) Gerard Depardieu. Pissing in full sight of an assembled group of people would also enhance the singer’s ailing cool credentials and make him seem more ‘punk’, something he hasn’t been called in the best part of fifteen years.

Musical Terrorism

Billie Joe isn’t the real guilty party here but then, it’s not unusual to see someone punished for a crime that isn’t really their fault. Green Day themselves have morphed from a popular exponent of a musical sub-culture into a popularity-driven hype machine punctuated by changing musical tastes amongst teenagers and studio executives alike. Reprise Records (Green Day’s label) have changed and have dragged Green Day along with them.

This seems to have left the band desperate to appeal to ‘old school’ Green Day fans and teenagers in heart grenade hoodies who believe that 21st Century Breakdown is “deep and really speaks to them”. In becoming a pop band, Green Day have stretched themselves too thin.

If Billie Joe was thrown off the plane and arrested for musical terrorism then he would be nothing more than an accessory to the crime.

The organisers of Hard Rock Calling, that sort of festival like thing that happens in Hyde Park every summer that isn’t the O2 Wireless festival, have decided that former Fall Out Boy bassist and pioneer of the musical equivalent of object dá, Pete Wentz, is a suitable choice for a battle of the bands judge.

Right? RIGHT?

If you’re lucky enough to have forgotten the mid noughties, here’s a crash course in all things Pete Wentz:

• He was in an emo band called Fall Out Boy who got big on the back of the success of auditory assassins My Chemical Romance.
• He had/has a stupid fringe and a fondness for guyliner.
• He was once caught doing an Ashley Cole after a fan posted a picture of his tattooed tallywhacker on the internet and…
• He’s married to Ashlee Simpson, a woman so pathetic she continues to live in the shadow of America’s answer to Kerry Katona, her older sister Jessica Simpson.

That’s right, at one point in time, Pete Wentz was related by marriage to Nick Lachey.

ROCKNFUGGINROLL!

The heats Wentz will be judging are taking place in Hard Rock Cafes all over the world, because being alternative and sticking it to the man is like totally all about being a shameless corporate whore nowadays, duh!

The budding bands that Wentz will cast his three eyes over are battling it out to see who gets to take to the stage in Hyde Park, in front of literally some people, and belt out their best Aerosmith covers as bottles of piss whip past their heads and rain pours down on them from the cold, grey London skies.

We here at hecklerspray aren’t really ones for nurturing talent, we prefer to call people names and giggle amongst ourselves, but even so we can’t honestly see what would make anyone desperate enough to have Pete Wentz, a man so incredibly annoying and pointless that even Bono thinks it’s a bit much, judge their musical ability. Unless they’re still about 12 years old and think that Wentz is OMG LIKE SO TOTALLY BUFF YEH!

Anyway, congratulations Hard Rock Calling, whatever credibility you had left after changing your name to that of an overpriced theme restaurant has just evaporated.

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The best thing about being super-rich is that, rather than let governments decide how to spend your tax, you can just keep hold of it, then donate some to a groovy cause, whilst getting baskets of praise and verbal fellatio for making a really exciting thing happen.

Imagine a world where we could all do that! We would look dead nice from giving money to AIDS kids, earthquake orphans and publicity-hungry slag animals. Like polar bears. The furry whores.

We wouldn’t have to worry about our money helping to provide rehabilitation for murderers and young offenders.

A single mum needs a house to live in because she keeps shitting out the next generation of ASBO collectors? Let me just ring my publicist and see if we can help. He says it’s definitely on if the babies are Chinese, otherwise he can arrange for her to sell her story to The Sun.

She can earn a few bob if she doesn’t mind being vilified in a full-page special about how much she’s costing the taxpayer. Except she’s not! Because we’re not paying tax anymore! We’re philanthropists and society’s been privatised! So, everyone’s a winner!

Paying tax is a moral duty and no-one ever thanks you for doing your duty, they thank you for presents! That’s why absent dads who turn up drunk every two years clutching an Optimus Prime and a mountain bike are the best kinds of father to have!

In entirely unrelated news, we’d just like to say thanks a bunch to U2 for giving 5 million Euros to expand a pilot scheme across Ireland so that thousands of youngsters can learn to play a musical instrument. The scheme will give an estimated 10,000 youngsters the opportunity to play music for a living or even just to open their eyes to the beauty of creating.

This is all due to their generosity and a further 2 million Euros from something called the Ireland Funds. Don’t worry about them though, they didn’t even go through a cowboy-hat phase in the late-eighties so they have nothing to teach us.

And don’t be churlish about this news – they don’t have to give you or your children anything, and the only reason they have to publicise it is to shut all those cynics up anyway. So hecklerspray says good on yer, U2!

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Hayley Williams, lead singer of faux-rock band Paramore, is in the news again and this time she’s managed to do it without exposing her, frankly disappointing, baps out for the entire world to see.

Apparently Williams is upset that people she is alleged to have forced out of the band aren’t happy about being allegedly forced out of the band.

Earlier in the week former Paramore guitarist Josh Farro royally through his toys out of the pram and wrote a scathing blog post that detailed how he and his brother Zac felt forced out of Paramore, possibly by Williams’ chest.

Farro, who was a founding member of Paramore, was heavily critical of Williams’ family as well as both of Paramore’s former and current record labels, Atlantic and the stupidly named Fuelled by Ramen respectively.

Moments after Farro’s blog post appeared, the bands 12-year-old Twilight loving fan base went into meltdown, seeing it as one of the harbingers of the apocalypse.

Would their favourite band make it through this whiny cry for attention unscathed, or would it cause them to go their separate ways, breaking literally some hearts while the rest of us continue not to give a toss about Hayley Williams or her rack?

Only time will tell, although Williams insists that the band is still together and will be working on new material.

Bugger.

Williams was quoted as saying that all of the negativity that was being spread was, “a real drag.” Proving once again that there really isn’t much underneath all that brightly coloured hair.

In related news sales of razorblades have tripled since Farro’s blog post went up.

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Being a child is really annoying isn’t it? You’re not quite old enough to go out and enter the big wide world.

Instead, mummy still plops you in the shopping trolley at Asda, gives you a bib at feeding time and still tucks you in at night to make sure the monsters don’t attack you.

However, when you reach the age of thirteen/fourteen something magically happens! Young girls and boys develop a mini sense of direction. Granted, they’re only copying what they see on the TV and need their parents to buy all the essential clobber for them, but they are independent, cool and part of a movement. Over the years the most popular fad has been Emo.

Dressing in black and looking like a box of pins has exploded in their faces, they’ve worried councillors, coffin-dodgers and corner shop owners. It’s not just the UK that has this problem, it’s Russia too and, in a strange move, the country wants to ban Emo culture.

Whilst hecklerspray isn’t the most clued-up on historical knowledge, we get the feeling that wanting to wipe out a certain culture sounds similar to something that happened in the 1940s. You know when that bloke Hitler wanted only blond-haired blue-eyed people to rule supreme and for all Jews to perish in dodgy ways?

We’re not suggesting that a mass gassing is on the cards for anyone wearing a My Chemical Romance shirt, but they should at least try to wear a bright pink My Little Pony coat to disguise themselves with.

As the NME reports:

“The legislation was presented last month at a hearing held by the State Durma, where critics claimed that the “negative” emo culture encourages anti-social behaviour and glorifies suicide.”

We’ve listened to a few emo-sounding records and, to be honest, we didn’t feel like jumping off a bridge or licking a plug directly afterwards.

Instead, we just struggled to understand the constant shouting and laughed at some moron gushing out his heart. Aww, he misses his girlfriend, how cute. Always refreshing to see that he went and painted a new tattoo over his arm saying “H8er 4ever fook everyting.”

But if you live in Russia this is soon to be banned, well if Alexander Grishunnin has his way. This is because Emo:

“Is driven by fears that these “dangerous teen trends” encourage depression and suicide.”

Ouch, annoying stuff you must agree. Well, if you’re one of these people who steal others’ souls deep at night. Whilst Russia may be drafting plans to stop people apparently wanting to kill themselves, we all have to remember that the UK may get an import of Russians.

Russian people are pretty much an all right bunch – they bring us vodka to get drunk with. But do we really want depressed youths hanging on our street corners? Of course not, that position has already been filled by Polish people apparently.

Looks like those Russians may have to leave The Black Parade if the law gets passed.

It’s that time of the year again when music lovers gather in a field to celebrate the thing they love: live music.

There are all sorts of festivals to cater for all sorts of musical tastes in all four corners of the world. The main ones kick off at this time of year and hecklerspray is here to tell you all you need to know about each festival, who the essential people are to see and which act to avoid so you can queue up for the overflowing shit-filled portaloos.

As the sun sneaks out from behind one of his many clouds, the hot weather looks like it may arrive for one of the festivals that kick starts them all. Download is the chance for 75,000 people to gather together and rock out to leather clad men drenched in tattoos and piercings. Sounds like a bit ropey if you ask us.

Download festival means one thing: it’s the only weekend of the year when parents of angry teenagers can drop off their sprogs so they can all share a common love of hating the world together. Of course it may mean forking out over £300 for little Jimmy’s ticket, food supplies, tent, waterproof clothing and suncream but it means mum and dad can have Saturday and Sunday free of Norwegian mega death metal.

For the kids, it will be an opportunity to meet fellow angst ridden emo lovers. This gives the ideal opportunity for everyone to compare their generic star tattoos, lip piercings and why My Chemical Romance means so much to them.

Because the festival attracts a younger audience, expect a quick queue at the bar. Hopefully the Download staff will stick to alcohol laws and won’t serve beer to sixteen year old children. Though we’re sure that some young rascals will get their mucky paws on a few pints of cider and vomit up their £6 gravy and chips.

The Mr Whippy van will have to call in extra supplies of cotton candy to cope with the demand as children look for a sugary high as opposed to the one they’d get when they’d smoke cannabis cut with Oxo cubes.

Think of this festival as a massive childminding event where the entertainment isn’t a Punch and Judy show, but the screaming’s of some pissed up rock band. You’ll be lucky to see a synthesiser. Held over three says, Download offers the best new rock talent and aging crippled artists who won’t go away.

Friday – Go go go!

Kiss – You know that porn film which had Gene Simmons in it? Well boys and girls, this is what he does as a ‘proper’ job. No, he doesn’t paint faces for a living! He rocks out, probably with his cock out.

Rolo Tomassi – We love these young guns from Sheffield. They will surprise you with how loud and crazy they can be.

Friday – Avoid Like The Plague:

Motörhead - They have one song that everyone knows and that’s about it. They’ll only play it at the end of the set to make you wait.

Kid Rock – He’s an American Badass apparently. But we think of him as just an arsehole. Once upon a time he married Pamela Anderson. Go ask him about it, he probably tell you all about it.

Saturday – Go go go!

Ash – They may be cracking at the seams, but they’re always up for a song and a dance. Something which comes with bucket loads of sweat.

Biffy Clyro – Scottish rockers who don’t fall into the trap of being the same thrash metal track thirty-two times over. Ask nicely, and they may sing their version of Rhinna’s umbrella song.

Saturday – Avoid Like The Plague:

Pendulum – For fuck’s sake, are they booked to play at every festival this year? Just like 50 Cent playing Leeds in 2004, Pendulum are Download’s random booking.

The Offspring – Apparently we we’re wrong to label them one hit wonders. After Pretty Fly [For a White Guy] they’ve had more hits. How are they headlining?

Sunday – Go go go!

Lethal Bizzle – The guy’s amazing. His crossover blend of rock/hip-hop/electronica should appear to all. Even My Chemical Romance fans might crack a smile.

Exit Ten – One album done and many more to follow. A band to say you saw before they made it big and sold their souls to Simon Cowell.

Sunday – Avoid The Plague:

Fightstar – Get ready to piss in a bottle and launch it at Charley. The former Busted goon doesn’t really seem to fit in.

Jimmy Eat World – We don’t get them or understand their popularity.