We can categorically guarantee without a shadow of a doubt that our readers know exactly what an experiment is. Some of you will have studied science in school and will have been involved in the dissemination of liquid from beaker to conical flask; some of you might even be scientists. If you are then can we suggest that you keep an eye on that petri dish over there as it appears to be sentient.

Even the regular readers who trawl the site looking for something to get up in arms about are familiar with experimentation, having been used as test subjects by a series of alien species with nefarious designs on the rectal areas of people who believe in a Michael Jackson-led arachnid conspiracy, coordinated from the moon.

Odd-balls, basically.

Unfortunately there are many advertisers who, like most of the simple concepts in the world, just can’t get their heads around the idea of an experiment. Take the lovely people from Bulmers as a case in point. Their latest advertising shtick revolves around rewarding ‘experimental’ people.

You can watch it here if you can handle the inane advertising drivel that goes along with it. It’s probably best that you at least try, otherwise a lot of what we’re telling you might be quite hard to digest.

For a start there’s the cider itself. Crushed red berries and lime, made with over 100 years of experience. Hardly experimental. crushed red berries go quite well with lime, anyone who’s ever tried a strawberry daiquiri can tell you that. Is the experimental element putting it in a bottle? As we already mentioned, much of science is decanting liquid from one receptacle to another. Perhaps that’s it.

Is it the stacked up TVs which are the experimental element? There’s nothing experimental about the systematic piling of television equipment unless Bulmers hope to create some kind of portal to another dimension using nothing but static electricity and cathode ray tubes.

Wait. Hang on just one god-damned minute. Is this the experiment? An un-named comedian (Humphrey Ker, to give him his due) standing in the street, acting like a charity mugger with a camera crew trying to get people to go to his “friend’s gig” round the corner? He’s handing out wristbands! Is that experimental in any way? Having a man in the street trying to get people to do something that they don’t want to do? Walk down any street in a city and you’ll see that en masse. There’s no experiment there.

Perhaps the gig itself is the experimental element? Maybe it’s some kind of Japanese musical installation where the band members only play sounds using construction components. Maybe we’ll hear the first ever drum solo played on a high-visibility jacket stretched over a storage drum.

Oh, it’s Plan B.

PLAN B ISN’T EXPERIMENTAL! The man would like you to believe that he saved soul music from the drudgery of the world but in actual fact he did nothing more than further dilute an already irritatingly shallow talent pool with music that doesn’t really “do it” for anyone but definitely sounds good when having a few drinks and nibbles before a dinner party. It’s the kind of music that David Cameron might listen to. That’s not terribly experimental.

Maybe there’s an element of sexual experimentation? Maybe the advert will end with Plan B taking sixteen women, three men and a Shetland pony backstage for a massive orgy that will only end when the police come in to break things up like the massive fascists that they are.

That never happens.

In actual fact, nothing experimental happens in the entire advert. That leaves us wondering why a company would create an advertising campaign based entirely around experimentation and the rewards that can come to those who ‘take a chance’ while having video evidence to the contrary.

Perhaps the experiment lies in finding out how many people see beyond the idiotic gloss of the thirty second advert to question the experiment itself. Perhaps we’ve now transcended to another level of existence where we can see through the nonsense in adverts and get straight to their core message. In reality though, this is probably another example of the “let’s hope they don’t notice” culture which is pervasive throughout the advertising community at the moment.
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Lindsay Lohan wants to merge the musical styles of Kylie and Rihanna for her upcoming album.

Lindsay Lohan is determined to pursue her music career, according to The Daily Telegraph (of Australia), with Kylie's and Rihanna's back catalogue the inspiration behind her new record. Lohan said:

"I want it to be dance. I want it to be kind of Kylie Minogue meets Rihanna. I hope to tour with it and I hope to really promote it. I've already done three songs. I'm doing my third in New York, actually."

Now, although you may be thinking that it would be a pointless task traveling to New York to finish a song she’s just told us she’s already finished, don’t have a go at her. How about you just put your cynical self to the side for just one moment and wish her all the best? Why not spread a bit of love for a change?

Would you take the piss out of Steven Hawking if he tried to stand up by himself? No, you wouldn’t, so why take the piss out of Lindsay trying to sing? 

Upon being asked as to whether any of her new songs would reflect the troubles of her past year, Lohan said:

"I'm not sure yet, I don't know if I really want to (reflect on them). I think the past is the past and it should be kept there. It's a new slate for me and I want to show that in my new record."

And that’s her prerogative, guys. Shame though, because we were all looking forward to such classics as 'Woke up this morning saw my chuff in the paper’, ‘They told me to go to rehab, I said sure, sure, sure’ and ‘Like A Virgin, Touched For The 5,000th time’.

That’s all well and good and hilarious, but it’s also quite cruel when you think about it. Just like it was when reports of a sex video starring her were leaked on the internet. How would you feel if a grainy image of you eating Callum Best’s dirty fudgestick was circling the internet? The humiliation would surely be enough to drive you to stupidity too.

So let's all forget about how rubbish she is at most things, and try focusing on the positive aspects.

Feel free to point them out below.

Read more – Lindsay wants to be Kylie – The Daily Telegraph

Say what you like about Samatha Janus – actually, no, don't say what you like about Samantha Janus, especially if it's about how much Samantha Janus likes having lesbian orgies on drugs, because she'll just end up suing you.

And more than that, she'll end up winning – because Samantha Janus definitely, officially, legally doesn't like to have massive lesbian orgies on drugs, because that's what The Sunday Sport said about her and she's just won a giant load of damages for it. And let's hope that Samantha Janus' disinterest in having massive sweaty lesbian orgies on drugs also stretches to the rest of her EastEnders TV family, because that way we know that the frankly rather sickening mental images we've been having of Phil Mitchell all red-faced in the middle of a three-hour massive sweaty lesbian sex orgy on drugs will never manifest themselves physically.

As the recent scandal over the nonexistant '2 hecklerspray writers 1 cup' internet video has taught us, it's not nice when people make up lies about your sexual preferences. For the record, there were six of us present and it wasn't a cup, it was a bucket. Really, when will these lies stop?

In the past Desperate Housewife Teri Hatcher had to deal with sexual lies being printed about her when media outlets claimed she shagged a load of men in a camper van – something so untrue that Teri Hatcher won a stack of compensatory damages from whoever published it. And now it's the turn of Samantha Janus, the actress famous for acting like a bit of a slapper in woefully-dated mid-nineties sitcom Game On, acting like a bit of a slapper in the woefully-dated late-nineties sitcom Babes In The Wood and prancing about in her bra in all sorts of lad's mags when they were still popular.

But recently Samantha Janus was handed a golden lifeline to save her from a future of Where The Heart Is and Judge John Deed guest-spots when she was given a job on EastEnders as Ronnie Mitchell – niece of Peggy Mitchell, cousin of Phil Mitchell and sister to a woman who looks like an Alan Sugar Terrahawk puppet. But with renewed success came renewed unwanted media attention for Samantha Janus, and it wasn't long before newspapers were banging on about all the three-hour massive sweaty dirty lesbian sex orgies on drugs that she has.

Or doesn't have, should we say. In the summer, The Sunday Sport printed an article claiming that Samantha Janus had a three-hour drug-fuelled lesbian sex orgy with her boyfriend and one of her female friends, while also claiming that she had unprotected sex with a male model in his car on a public street once – and all of it was so untrue that Samantha Janus has taken the newspaper to court for libel and won all sorts of undisclosed damages.

The article was also accompanied by two topless pictures of Samantha Janus taken by her old boyfriend that were not intended for publication. In court it was argued that the photos should have never been published, possibly because anyone who wants to see Samantha Janus topless that much can rent either bad rugby movie Up 'N Under or bad generic drama Different Strokes instead of going through the humiliating process of buying The Sunday Sport.

Anyway, all this goes to prove is that you'd better not tell lies about Samantha Janus' sex life; just like other EastEnders faces Stacey Slater, Dirty Den and Sean Slater. But that's only because they've respectively had sex on CCTV in a hotel corridor, dressed up as Captain Hook and wanked off on the internet and apparently sent a model a photo message of a pig with a penis for head, and it be hard to come up with lies that are funnier than those.