Saturday Night's Alright For Judging

LOLLE!

HILAR!

AMAZEBALLS!

WHORE!

It’s that time of the year again when reactionary phrases like these break Twitter. Yes, Britain’s Got Talent is back and this year it has a rival! The Voice UK, or Don’t Look At My Ugly Face! As it’s more commonly known. Along with Take Me Out, Saturday nights have become a three hour long cavalcade of judging twats. No longer do you need to leave your house to experience the dickheads that England has to offer.

It starts with The Voice UK. At first The Voice seems to dissuade you from judging and laughing at its contestants. It’s all about the voice you see, not the HORRIBLE face. The judges - Tom Jones, Jessie J, Will.i.am, and that Irish guy from The Script - have their backs turned from the HIDEOUS faces and as a result they’re never able to hurl the same caustic insults as The X-Factor judges do: “You look like a prick, you dress like a prick and you sing like a prick”.

X-Factor fans may find this disappointing but they should embrace the positivity of The Voice, it’s not some freakish sideshow where we point and laugh at all the DISGUSTING people who can’t sing. Instead we applaud all the REPULSIVE people who can sing. You go girl! Or are you a man? 80 minutes of this is just depressing. There aren’t any bad contestants at all on The Voice, in fact the only ones who don’t go through are already famous or have a moderately interesting tale to tell. Watching 80 minutes of talented singers can leave your self esteem in tatters.

It’s alright though, because they’re SICKENING right? You can’t even look at their faces without wanting to gouge your eyes out. Well no. Most of them are good looking people, while no contestant could be considered downright fuck ugly. Sure that guy is fat and that woman has no hair but at least they haven’t got a foetus growing on the side of their head. Watch The Voice and you’ll feel like you’re the horrible, hideous, disgusting, repulsive, sickening excuse of a human being. There must be something wrong with these people!

And there is. They’re all cunts. The bald woman doesn’t have to be bald, she can wear a wig, Beyonce doesn‘t have real hair! The man who acted like quitting his job at Sainsburys was the biggest sacrifice ever made didn’t have to quit, book the day off you dickhead! The sixteen year old girl who dressed like a slutty crow didn’t have to dress like a slutty crow for a competition where the judges couldn‘t see her!

I started to enjoy The Voice when these idiots showed up but it’s not enough to save such a flawed and contrived show. It’s called The Voice but the judges spend as much time bemoaning how they would have said yes had they seen the contestant as they do finding as many cool ways to push the button. Try your elbow this time Jessie! The whole point of the show was to find the next Susan Boyle yet all they’ve found is a bunch of misshapen camp men.
 
Britain’s Got Talent is like a circus that comes into town once a year, bringing with it the nation’s biggest freaks and mentalists. The format has stayed the same since its conception and there’s no need to change it. BGT exists so we can point and laugh at the deluded and ugly. Most of us probably are deluded and ugly so it makes a welcome break to crying in the mirror.

It’s a shame that Britain has got some talent because BGT would be a far more entertaining show if it didn’t. If anything the talent gets in the way of the entertainment and it would bring in a much larger audience if it was called Britain’s Got Ugly. We don’t really care about the good auditions unless there’s some sort of odd quirk to them, like the two gay ballroom dancers who showed that ballroom dancing is literally gayer than gay sex.

The night ends with Take Me Out. Just as the world as we know it will. Any girl who thinks ITV is a suitable place to meet a man should have their ovaries confiscated. But that’s the point. To find 30 of the most undesirable women and try to pair them up with a massive cunt so we can all have a good judge and laugh about it. Look at her, she’s a slag. Ooo he’s full of himself. Her arms are too skinny. I bet he’s got Chlamydia. She’s orange. He’s gangly. She’s a bitch. He’s a bastard. I bet she’d suck off a tramp for a fiver. He’s definitely fucked his cousin.

After a terrifying horde of wildebeest stampede into the studio, one fearless wanker enters their pit. As he does his best to prove he’s a bigger prick than Paddy McGuiness (and inevitably fails) the “girls” show why we the audience are true judging connoisseurs. It took liking The Lord of the Rings for every girl to be disgusted by a man who looked like a 1930s paedophile. We’re judging him for looking like that, judging the girls for not judging him and judging Paddy McGuiness for being Paddy McGuiness.

Some people go to the cinema on a Saturday night. Some people go to a club, get drunk, and get herpes. Some people go dogging. But for most people Saturday night is all about judging the nation. Social networking has made the act into an actual event, in fact tweeting about these TV shows is more interactive than dogging. It may only be watching TV, but it’s more therapeutic than an Orwellian two minute hate.      

30 or 31 Days of Netflix

“Gee Whiz! A free 30 day trial of Netflix! Boy I can stream just about any movie I want and for free!” - Me, upon signing up for Netflix’s 30 day trial. Or is it 31 days? That’s probably where they get you. The good ol’ days of going down to Blockbuster and picking up a shiny looking box, being told you can’t sign up because you need proof of your address, coming back later and finally taking home a less shiny looking box, are almost over.

Call me old fashioned but I kind of liked making the effort to go out to Blockbuster to have an argument. “I don’t want to watch that Julia Roberts shite you bitch!” She’d say to me. Of course I don’t actually go to Blockbuster, I’ve spent the last five years buying DVDs instead of renting them, and now I’ve got no room in my house because of all the fucking awful DVDs I’ve bought. Give an idiot money and he will buy shit. Today I have no money or room to buy any DVDs, so renting films seems like a great idea once again. Imagine watching a film and not thinking “I’ve spent 10 fucking quid on this” all the way through.

While you have to put on trousers and leave your house to go to Blockbuster, Netflix and Lovefilm don’t even require you to get out of bed. Surely a service as great as this will put Blockbuster out of business, “Hey Blockbuster! It turns out I CAN rent films in my pants!”. Sign me up Netflix 30 day (or 31 day) trial! Sign me up now!

The first striking thing about Netflix isn’t that you can watch any film you want at the click of a button, but that you can watch any film that you DON’T want to watch at the click of a button. Trying to find a film to watch on Netflix is like trying to find a nun who’ll have sex with you. When it’s free it’s difficult to feel aggrieved, but when they catch me out and I have to pay £5.99 next month I’m going to pretty pissed off. Save for a few TV shows there isn’t much on Netflix. There are some good films but if you haven’t already seen The Usual Suspects chances are someone has already told you who the fuck Keyser Soze is.

Navigating through their horrible interface is as painful as any simile you can think of involving a penis. Genres are either too broad or too specific, who is ever in the mood for a visually-striking violent film? According to Netflix, me. Netflix suggests films for you after you tick a few boxes and rate a few films. Filling in your taste preferences seems simple enough: How often do you watch the following genres? Then you have to do the same for moods. Moods! Romantic, feel-good, scary, cerebral. Cerebral? What is that? Do they mean Inception or The Man with Two Brains? They also have steamy down as a mood! Steamy! Is it Top Gun or Thomas the Tank Engine? The options I’m given to answer are ridiculous: never, sometimes, often. I’ve seen steamy films but sometimes is a bit of an overstatement, yet I can’t say I’ve never seen them. I’m just going to leave it blank until I’ve seen enough steamy films.

Netflix tells me that the more films I rate the better it knows me, and to an extent it delivers on its promise. Because most of the films in its library are terrible I’ve rated them as such, and Netflix successfully predicts that I won’t like them. It still suggests them to me though. “Hey Dave! You’ll probably think this film is shit but you should watch it anyway!”

As long as it’s free, Netflix is a joy to behold, but paying £5.99 a month every month to watch Jason Statham and Nicholas Cage films would be a waste of £5.99. You’ll feel inclined to make the most of what you’re paying for and end up watching all kinds of films you never thought you’d want to see. You’ve paid for it now, you might as well use it. You might not have to put pants on and go out, it might even be cheaper, but you’re not going to see the film you want to see. You’re going to see Drive Angry.

Schrodinger's racist

It’s a strange state of affairs when John Terry becomes an example of quantum physics. Just as Schrodinger’s cat is both alive and dead, John Terry is currently both innocent and guilty, the only difference being that John Terry hasn’t been locked inside a box…not yet anyway.

Last season the only trend of the footballing world was the snood, but since its ban from the game it’s been replaced by never ending sagas. We’ve had by the hour reports on the non-movements of Carlos Tevez - “yep, he’s still here” - the minute since he refused to play in September. Arsenal need a left back, Manchester United need a midfielder, Fernando Torres isn’t scoring, Andy Carroll isn’t scoring, Jack Wilshere is still broken, Joey Barton did a tweet, the referee is a wanker, Liverpool are racist, ‘Arry hasn’t paid his taxes, the same stories are being regurgitated in our faces every day, and now we know that the John Terry saga will not end before July.

Boyz n the Snood

Luis Suarez made his racist remarks only a week earlier than John Terry and was banned and fined in December, so why such a delay for Terry? The two incidents are very similar yet there is a huge contrast in results, is this purely because John Terry is English? Would he have already have been banned if there wasn’t an international tournament this summer? It would be cynical to suggest that the FA are protecting John Terry so he can play in Euro 2012 but what other reason would they have to delay the decision?

The build up to last week’s fixture between Queens Park Rangers and Chelsea focused solely on whether Anton Ferdinand would shake John Terry’s hand, and in the end the FA stopped everyone shaking hands. This week Chelsea play Manchester United and we were all poised for another dreary will they won’t they shake hands episode as John Terry was set to face Anton’s brother Rio, though an injury has forced him out. Had he played it would be reasonable to assume the FA would ban handshake formalities again, preventing Rio from making a statement had he chosen to do so. The phrase “help, help, I’m being repressed” comes to mind.

Is this going to be a common occurrence for the rest of the season? Are the FA going to ban any situation where John Terry could look like a dick? Or will they introduce situations in which he’ll look like a hero? Maybe they’ll buy him some Jay-Z albums and find him some best friends who are black. Maybe a team mate has a black wife he could have sex with. All possibilities the FA are considering.

The FA’s first act of protection came today in stripping John Terry, not of his clothes, but of his captaincy. It may only be an armband and the seat next to the driver on the team bus to you, but to some people the captaincy is a big deal, it’s an honour. Only after criticism from the media that John Terry could captain England to a trophy and then be found guilty of racial abuse did the FA deem any action necessary. “Punishing” John Terry now will placate the media and the public to an extent, alleviating some pressure and criticism from Terry. It’s not a punishment at all, it’s a tactic to make John look like a stand up guy, he’s done his penance, so we needn’t cry for it anymore.

Even so, it’s a temporary punishment at best, he’s not even been dropped from the team, he’s lost the captaincy once before so what’s stopping him from being reinstated in six months time? If England miraculously win Euro 2012 and he’s then found guilty will people care that he’s a racist? He’ll be a hero in some people’s eyes, he already is to Chelsea fans. Come the autumn we could have a tax dodging manager and a racist captain (not that the rest of the team are model citizens though), would this matter to anyone? Luis Suarez’s ban only spurred Liverpool fans to be racist themselves and boo Patrice Evra for not being anything other than overjoyed by Suarez’s comment; While Chelsea fans chanted “you know what you are” in reference to Anton Ferdinand earlier this season.

Whether John Terry is found innocent or guilty is somewhat irrelevant because there will be fans who will see him as nothing but an angel, they’ll do a “Liverpool” and adopt his attitudes, the stereotypical football fan is like that, irrational and illogical. They can’t see the truth, only an opposition to their opinion. Like it or not, footballers ARE role models and a single sentence has ignited a whole new wave of racism in football. It might not be believable, but it might be nice to see John Terry buying a Jay-Z album or sleeping with a team mate’s black wife.    

Information Heroin

I’ve become dependant on Wikipedia, it’s like information heroin, I can’t do anything without referring to it. As Wikipedia blacks out (that’s surely a racist term right?) today I’m sure to learn EXACTLY what Pete Doherty’s life is like. Is that the guy in that band? What were they called? Babysham?

I’ve already used Wikipedia a few times today, quickly looking things up on my phone, not important things but things that would slowly grate away at me over the course of the day until I started shouting at strangers, “WHAT WAS THAT THING CALLED? ARGH!”. If people are anything like me then the Mayans were right and the end of the world is happening today.

It started as a casual thing, you wanted to know something every now and again so you went on Wikipedia, it was no big deal, you were in control of it. Then time passed and before you knew it you couldn’t watch or listen to anything without knowing everything about everything and everyone. What was he in? I recognise him, I’ll look it up. Oh he was in it as well, but what was that other thing he was in? I’ll look it up. I remember that show, it had that girl in it, oh there she is, what’s she up to these days? Oh she’s in a thing with him, I wonder what everyone else in that show he was in are doing now. Oh, right, oooo, ahhh, IT GOES ON! AND ON AND ON! I CAN’T FUCKING STOP IT!

Only last week I read the entire history of the ice cream soda! Did you know that in Australia they call it a spider? I FUCKING DO! What am I supposed to do with that information? I don’t even like ice cream sodas. I just had some ice cream and a soda (Pepsi Max, though I do not agree with its pro-rape stance) and thought that people put them together and how that’s a bit weird so I looked it up. I just didn’t look it up, I “Wikipedied” it, I’ve started using it as a verb! Like those cunts who say “I’ll BBM you”. What is wrong with you people! Just say message or text, it’s quicker! “I’ll text you my BBM pin and then we can BBM”, FUCK OFF!

It’s not just ice cream sodas, one day I read about the history of Dr Pepper, I actually looked into what EVERY cast member of Lost was up to, for a previous post I needed (wanted) to know if hit 90’s TV series Woof! had an exclamation mark in its title and ended up reading everything about the show and its cast.

I’ll make it through the day, it might even be nice not having the compulsion to look up whether Pete Doherty is still alive. If I do have a query I could use Google and look for a trustworthy source, I haven’t trusted a single piece of information on Wikipedia, it might be comforting to know that what I know is actually true. I could go to the library and spend four hours searching through books and journals, and that would be fun, in a way.

What if this whole SOPA and PIPA thing goes through and Wikipedia does somehow get shut down? Isn’t ignorance bliss? You’re watching a film and your wife asks you “wasn’t he in that thing” and you can simply answer “I don’t know”. You don’t miss the next five or ten minutes of the film looking on Wikipedia (or IMDB because that got shut down as well), you get to enjoy the film. Or not, because her question infuriates you so much that you can’t concentrate on the film, what was he in? you think to yourself for the entire film, and when you say “I don’t know” she says “you fucking idiot! I’m leaving you!”. Six months later you’re banging on her door shouting “IT DOES HAVE AN EXCLAMATION MARK!”.

I need Wikipedia.

Celebrity Flagrance

The January sale. It’s clearly the invention of the devil. All that shit you bought for your family is now half price and all that shit you didn’t buy for yourself because it was too expensive and too frivolous is now just cheap enough to warrant spending the money you put aside for your car tax. You buy it all! All of it! Stuff! You buy endless amounts of stuff, it’s like a licence to be financially irresponsible, and for an hour you’re happy with your purchases until the pile of metre long Jaffa cake boxes becomes a portrait of regret.

I resent the January sale because I know it’ll defeat me. Something will be reduced just enough to warrant a purchase, and then how will I pay my car tax? It’s Boxing day and I turn on my laptop, I’m looking at clothes, I’m looking at DVDs and mail order brides and I buy nothing. I’ve survived! I’ve beaten the sale! And then I have a thought: I’ve run out of that aftershave I like. I’ve lost.

After looking at aftershaves for a while I started to realise how many celebrity fragrances there are, everyone has one, even Ian fucking Beale! Well not him, but that’s a plot the writers at Eastenders can have. Celebrities don’t stand for much these days but a fragrance is an opportunity to show the world their identity and what’s inside their soul, or so they think. The celebrity fragrance consumer must be pretty overwhelmed by the market and as such I’ve compiled a comprehensive guide.

Katy Perry - Purr

“The fragrance is a rich eau de parfum which opens with a fresh citrus accord of peach nectar and forbidden apple to awaken the senses.” - I bet it smells like candyfloss and cum.

Kim Kardashian - Kim Kardashian

“A modern fragrance for the modern woman. A beautiful blend of feminine and sensual notes, the debut fragrance captures the many sides of Kim's personality and glamorous style.” - Yes, because the modern woman is famous for being rich and famous. The many sides of Kim’s personality? I’ve had shits with more personality than her.

Justin Bieber - Someday

Click here for a much more detailed review.

Katie Price - Besotted

Besotted
adj
1.  infatuated: made confused through affection for or attraction to somebody
2.  muddled: in a confused mental state, especially through having drunk too much alcohol

Definitely the second one. Just look at that picture, is that a besotted face? You could put a photo of Hitler on the box and it would look more besotted.

Peter Andre - Mysterious girl

She’s only mysterious Pete because you don’t ask her name before you fuck her. I don’t think I’d be comfortable going out with someone who wore this fragrance. “What’s that smell?” “Peter Andre” “WHAT? WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING WITH HIM?”

Tulisa - TFB

It sounds like some kind of infectious disease but TFB stands for The Female Boss, because every celebrity needs a brand to sell right? Women, are you all happy with Tulisa claiming authority over you? Is that ok? If you’re going to call in sick (you might have caught TFB) make sure you let her know.

Paris Hilton - Stupid spoilt whore

Who is this for? The packaging would suggest young girls but look how whorey she looks even in cartoon form, it looks like hentai (a word not recognised by Microsoft word). They’ve really captured that vacuous look though. Eloquently blends top notes of sick with the musk of a thousand dicks.

Jade Goody - Shh…

THIS IS JUST TASTELESS!

And that’s your expert guide to the world of celebrity fragrances.