clivemurray.com

Oh dear, he’s not happy at all, is he? No no no. Apparently he had to hold himself back from getting up and hitting Simon Amstell on Never Mind The Buzzcocks, but instead he did the decent thing and left.

This, from today’s Sun:
“Obviously I didn’t want to resort to those sorts of things, so I just had to remove myself from the situation.

If I’d had to look at his snotty little public schoolboy failed-career face, I would have hit him. He’s got no charm.”

Interesting. Let’s take a couple of those points one-by-one, shall we? We shall.

1) “…public schoolboy…” Nope, according to Wikipedia, Simon went to Beal High School in Ilford, which is a Community (state) school. Is he having a go at Simon for being posh? One would hope not, as that would create a pot/kettle situation, for as Wikipedia once again informs us: “Preston is directly descended from British Prime Minister Charles Grey, 2nd Earl Grey.”

2) “…no charm.” That one’s subjective, but he’s certainly popular on the TV and taking over from Mark Lamarr in the NMTB seat would almost certainly, one would think, require a modicum of charm to survive in the job.

3) “…failed-career…” Um, well… some would say that if you compared two people, one of whom presents one of the country’s most popular and acerbic TV quiz shows, and the other goes on Sleb Big Brother basically to promote his band, and sinks to the depths of releasing a cheese-laden cover of George Michael’s “Last Christmas” to try and bolster some sales, I’m not sure I’d have come up with that answer.

Careful Sam. I may have to upgrade you from yesterday’s “Fucking cock” to something more in the region of “out-of-touch micro-sleb cunt”.

–c.
NB: Preston’s musical career is massively more successful than my own. I am aware of that, thanks. However, I will bet that I am a more accomplished musician than he, and I also have a sense of humour. As you were.

So. You’re the singer of a relatively trendy pop-ska band, and you go on Celebrity Big Brother in order to boost your band’s popularity. While in there, despite already having a girlfriend, you fall for the planted non-celebrity who then goes on to win the series. After the show is finished, your song goes to #3 in the charts thanks to appearing on the programme, and you yourself split from the extant girlfriend and marry the non-sleb drawing even more media attention, which does no harm to either of your careers.

Later, you appear on satirical TV pop quiz “Never Mind The Buzzcocks” featuring the even-more-acid-tongued-than-Mark-Lamarr host, Simon Amstell.

Do you expect:

1. No mention whatsoever of your new wife and her “career”
2. Maybe it will pop up once or twice, but all in good humour
3. To have the shit ripped out of you mercilessly, causing you to storm out of the studio refusing to take part in the show, demonstrating a sense-of-humour failure of hitherto unconceived proportions?

Err… had you ever seen the show before? Or even heard of it?

Fucking cock.

–c.

You know, I wouldn’t hate people quite so much if they weren’t all so fucking hateful.

Discuss.

–c.

I would like to state that I do not watch Sleb TV. I find the whole cult of celebrity that exists at the moment as a kind of absolute mania utterly depressing, and I feel sad for people whose lives are so dull and uninteresting that they feel they must fill their time by reading about or viewing the lives/actions of people who are deemed more worthy than them because they once mimed to a song written by someone else and had their cheekbones done.

I hate it. I fucking hate it. I cannot properly express how much I fucking hate it.

The other day – Saturday night, perhaps? – myself and Saffron were watching something on TV which finished, so we did the usual channel-hopping thing, and I had to remark that out of the 5 basic terrestrial channels, three of them (that’s 60%, by the way) were showing celebrity themed reality/talent (hah! talent!) shows. AT THE SAME TIME.

ALL AT ONCE.

However, the rest of the channels were showing utter shite as well, and I happened to have overheard that Donny Tourette of Towers of London was going to be on Sleb Big Brother. So we switched it on and began the usual game of puzzling over who the rest of the micro-slebs (nano- ? pico- ?) might be.

My heart sank into the floor after about 15 minutes when it was announced that Jade Goody was going to be on the show, along with most of her (total non-celebrity, but down this far the distinction is getting pretty murky anyway) family.

But my spirits rose and I was given faith anew in our fetid race as, upon learning that he was going to have to wait on Jade Goody, Donny climbed over the wall and escaped.

Good on you Donny, I’d have done exactly the fucking same.

–c.

I have no words.

–c.

Scientists have just released some absolutely astonishing news.

Rain is apparently actually *not* fatal.

I know! I couldn’t believe it either! What they’re saying is that if you go out in this FILTHY HORRIBLE weather, and you get some on you, you’ll actually be OK! Isn’t that amazing??

So that means that all this running about huddled up with a newspaper on your head is UTTERLY FUCKING POINTLESS.

AND ALWAYS HAS BEEN.

SO FUCKING STOP IT.

–c.

IT’S FUNNY BECAUSE ONE OF THE LETTERS IS RUBBED OUT.

Do you see? Do you?

I’m still giggling, myself.

No, really, I am. “Assing place”. HAHAHAHA.

–c.

So.

A bunch of James Bond “fans” have decided to boycott the forthcoming Bond film “Casino Royale“.

Why? Has it been funded by terrorists, oil magnates, or Dubya[1]? Nope. Has there been gratuitous harm of animals in the making of the film? Nope. Have the filmmakers desecrated some kind of holy icon or religious place either in the making of the film or in the events depicted within? Not as far as I’m aware.

Why then?

Ah, yes, of course. They don’t like the choice of actor playing the lead role. Silly me. Wasn’t it obvious?

Note to these “Bond fans”: Who the fuck do you think you are? Get over yourselves! Would you rather have Roger Moore back? Stop your fucking whining and attempt to continue enjoying a film franchise that long ago descended into the Hollywood-ised sequence of explosions and car chases that even Pierce Brosnan couldn’t make good. Excuse me, did you see “Die Another Day”? It was bollocks, and I didn’t hear you getting all het up over the invisible fucking car!

Fuck off.

–c.
[1] Who is or course both a terrorist AND an oil magnate.