Separating the sweet, juicy flesh from the stone and skin of this week?s major label releases.
They say you should never meet your heroes; that they will always leave you underwhelmed and disappointed. And it’s true: we once ran into Frankie Boyle in a chip shop in Leicester.
We made numerous attempts to goad him into getting his swear on (“You’re not very funny”, “You look like a paedophilic fish”, Your jokes consist of nothing more than pointing out that someone has died or is disabled, and then swearing at them”, and “In order to give the illusion that you are in any way amusing, you have to appear on a stage with Dara O’Briain, Hugh Dennis and whoever that little blonde boy is”.)
Nothing worked, and eventually the Scottish gag-fluffer scuttled into the night with his steaming treasure, leaving us saddened that he had failed to notice that the woman behind the counter was missing an index finger, and thus deserved to be swore at.
Which brings us to…