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Impressionists. It’s hard to know whether to laugh at them or kill them by strangling them with their own vocal chords.
Alas, they’re not all idiots. Some are rather good and inventive with it. Of course, most aren’t. Most are jarring nincompoops.
However, one chap has an A-to-Z of celebrity impressions and, while some aren’t too hot, some are really, really great.
Larry David, the man who’s brought us partially ad-libbed cringe comedy for the last THREE HUNDRED YEARS has told ESPN New York that he is still having fun filming Curb Your Enthusiasm. This statement flies in the face of criticism from some corners of the press which suggest that the show has lost its way.
David, responsible for being part of the team that brought us the equally diabolical Seinfeld, in which unlikeable cockhorse Jerry Seinfeld jogged through life in (admittedly wonderful) trainers while making bland observations about everyday occurrences.
This was all while his equally neurotic friends jogged their way miserably through their own lives, somehow finding them enriched by Jerry’s incessant bland observations.
Do you like running around firing off endless rounds of deadly ammo in Arctic tundras, desolate landscapes, hugely lethal alien jungles, grim nuclear wastelands and the cold, dead air of space itself?
Well, if you’re reading that and taking it literally, we suggest you hand yourself into the nearest psychiatric ward.
However, if you thought: ‘Hey! That sounds like a fun computer game to me!‘, then you’re okay by us. And with the help of Killzone 3, which is due for release soon, you’ll be able to run around with guns! And stuff!
Social Networking sites are, to a degree, a way of staying in touch with people you know or, more likely, people you’ve met on various blogs and forums and don’t fancy meeting them in real life, despite wondering what they really look like. That, or it’s just one massive skive where you can bitch about your boss/idiot co-workers.
However, for every good thing about social networking sites, there’s a million annoyances. People inviting you to awful groups, stuff to do with growing imaginary ducks on a farm, stupid hashtag games and a million messages from something called formspring. It’s enough to make you want to kill. Well, instead of killing humans or writing passive aggressive updates, why not take your anger out on the sites themselves and blap staples in them until they’re dead? That’s exactly what you can do on the mindless shoot-out of Social Networking Wars. Sadly, you’re not allowed to kill all your colleagues in this game.
This reminds us of an episode of The Simpsons.
Marge is trying to the kids to do the gardening, but they refuse on the grounds it’s boring – later in the same episode Bart gets really excited when he sees a videogame called ‘Virtual Gardener’ or something along those lines, and rushes to play.
Great joke, of course. And then you get confronted with Throw Paper, and you feel a bit guilty. Because you’re doing the same thing. Instead of actually throwing paper balls into a wastebasket, you’re doing it virtually, on your computer.
But enough of the irony/comedy/forgetting classic moments of The Simpsons – this is a classic, addictive and fun game to waste a good few minutes on. Or hours, if you have that compulsive a personality.
Throw the paper, compensate for wind speed, get as many in the bin in a row as you can.
And that’s it.
Play Throw Paper Here:
Jamie Lynn Spears was raised in a totally different environment to the rest of us, so she obviously has her own idea of what’s fun.
So what does Jamie Lynn Spears think is fun? Sport? Watching TV, maybe? No – according to Jamie Lynn Spears, being a constant slave to a screaming little fleshbag that’s stolen the rest of your life and won’t respond to reason or logic is fun.
We’re referring, of course, to Jamie Lynn Spears’ new baby. Jamie Lynn has been frothing and fizzing about how brilliant it is to be a teenage mother to OK! as part of a $1 million deal with the magazine that’s thought to include rights to interviews, baby photos and the inevitable ‘I hate my baby and wish it was never born’ postnatal depression exclusive, pencilled in for Christmas.
