Mr And Mrs Meldrew Dish It Out. First out, Bristol legend Paul Conroy…
What the fuck is going on at Radio fucking One at the moment? Edith Bowman and her fucking annoying voice has been axed thank fuck, but replaced by Greg James – a cheap sounding Scott Mills wannabe with nothing to say. Who cares if he is younger? He’s fucking boring. Im sorry, but radio is simple – if you have something interesting, funny, informative or entertaining to say – go for it, if you don’t, shut your mouth and play a tune. If Edith Bowman had understood this rule we would have never have heard her irritating voice, just music and she might still be in a job. Radio 1 if you really want to lose your mid afternoon audience give me and Dan a show, we would happily upset an audience for half a million each.
Good to see Jordan is not acting like a silly pissed up slut and showing some real dignity following her split from Peter Andre.
Walking down Park Street in Bristol on Saturday I spotted a beggar sat on the pavement with a cardboard sign that read ‘MONEY NEEDED FOR DRUGS’ – brilliant!
Sixty Minute Makeover is a TV program for unemployed people and fat women on daytime telly where team of DIY experts (non-polish builders, painters and decorators) a camp interior designer and a cockney cheeky chappy handy man are given one hour to decorate someone’s house while the owners are out shopping and cashing their Giro in the hope that when they return they are gonna love the new look and start crying on national television. Well Im sorry but this is a pile of bullshit. If the program was an honest one it would reflect the true British builder and would be called Sixty Minute Tea Break. In the real world the owner would be out when the team who turn up late are given sixty minutes to sit around to drink tea, have a smoke, check out the tits in todays Daily Sport and have a little swig of anything with a cork in or a lid on in the drinks cabinet. When the owner returns after an hour absolutely nothing has changed and they are greeted by the team who inform them they are waiting for a skip.
Did you know that the world record for eating baked beans with a cocktail stick in one minute is 54. I would like to see the same record attempted with a fucking pitchfork.
Hello to my friend Alice who recently went Pete Tong’s ‘Wonderland’ night at Eden in Ibiza. There should be a film and a book to follow.
5 things I hate this week:
1) Shopping with the girlfriend. Fuck me, I would rather take a dump in a pint glass, blend it with piss and tip it over my head than be dragged around town looking for an outfit that makes you look like shit dressed as chocolate.
2) People who think they are sexy and are not, i.e. ugly girls, Italian blokes, Kerry Katona.
3) Charity people who stop you in the street and don’t understand what fuck off means.
4) People who live in Castleford.
5) Anyone with Swine Flu.
I see Dale Winton has signed up a new deal with Sky. This time he has gone for the sports package, a Sky Plus box and movies on demand.
I went to the zoo on Sunday and there were no animals there – just a fucking dog. It was a Shitzu.
Next Up, Dan Prince tells it as it is…
Terrible news about that body found in the back of a burning car on Blackpool promenade the other day. Fuck me, I know Blackpool is a depressing place for a weekend jaunt and that crash on The Big Dipper the other day was awful, but there’s no need to torch yourself and a good Volvo saloon with only 22,000 miles on the clock, is there?
So England got battered in the Fourth Test at The Ashes. The reason they lost was, according to sources, due to a women in their hotel setting a fire alarm off at 4.30am whilst trying to dry a pair of her undies, resulting in a total evacuation. Erm, sorry, no. The reason you lost was because you played like Stevie Wonder plays cricket.
Is it wrong to fancy Peter Andre?
There’s this awful Typhoon in Taiwan killing many people, unemployment is on the rise again in the UK and The NHS lost £600m last year we hear. So there I am eating my Cornflakes last Saturday, picked up my papers and see a full page ‘news story’ about a stoat that was hit by a sports car, got stuck in the grille and survived a 32 mile journey. These editor’s are worth their money in gold.
I got stuck a tree once trying to nick apples from next door. A bit embarrassing true as it was Mr Opleshaw who’s house it was who had to help me down. Not as embarrassing though as the 71 year old granny in Nottingham who yesterday had to climb up a tree and clamber on for two hours after being chased by a cow across a field.
Last Saturday’s winning Lottery numbers were 09, 17, 26, 32, 33, 36 and 06. If you have them, fuck off.
I love my dogs. Lovejoy (my dog) can bark a house down that can wake neighbours 3000 miles away and Tinker (my other dog) does the longest piss I have ever seen. But they are part of my family, but that is far as it goes. If I get run over by a car tomorrow these little buggers will be saddened to see there’s nowt in my will for them. So check out this Alsatian dog in Miami who has just hit the top spot in the ‘2009 Pet Rich List’ – he is now worth £224 million quid and owns a Florida mansion. As I read this information whilst trying not to choke on my own vomit, I saw that at Number 4 on the list is a hen called Gigoo – left a cool £10 million by some publishing tycoon and at Number 20, a soddin’ tortoise called Silverstone who has coined in £100,000 by some silly sod who owned a bookshop.
I used to live a few door’s down from Oasis star Liam Gallagher. Singer Shaznay Lewis admitted this week that he is a fabulous babysitter. Need I say anything more?
See Tim Westwood has lost his Tuesday night slot on Radio 1. Deputy Controller Ben Cooper admits that ” Radio 1 must evolve”. Mate, look in the dictionary, evolve means moving on gradually – you are the biggest radio station we have in the UK and you have taken too long to get rid of so many shit DJs. And now you have moved aside a music stalwart.
Another great poll the British Tax Payer must have payed for. It turns out that Brits abroad can only say ‘hello’ and thank you in a foreign language. Woah, hold on here sunshine. “Can I have a beer?”, “I fancy your doris”, “Can you get me any E’s fella ?”, “Have you tried the new Right Guard deodorant?”, “Why are you wearing clothes that would look better on a scarecrow?” – these are all sentences I know back to front and are ready for my hols.”
