Amazon should ban people from leaving comments and ratings before a product is actually available. This would seem to me to be plain common sense. I mean honestly, just look at some of this crap:
It’ll be amazingness unrivalled!
It’ll be impossible for it to be bad - this is Harry Potter we’re talking about, guys, haha … it’s going to be GREAT! No question.
of course its going to be good
I know of many other people who are sure that Harry Potter and the ???????? will deserve five stars, to find them just type “harry potter fan fiction” into google. I got 1,950,000 results and its probably still growing. click on any harry potter fan fiction site, an look at the lists of authors. Probably every single person there is of the opinion that book 7 will deserve 5 stars and will rate it accordingly as and when it comes out.
the end…
I’m very tempted to give five stars to it, because it’s bound to be great, but it wouldn’t be ABSOLUTELY honest, would it? So i tried just not to rate it, but that’s not allowed. SO, i have to resort to giving it 5 stars…
And just for balance:
dont get me wrong
the book will get five stars from me it will be awsome but the title will get zero
Grade-A nuts, the lot of them. They should be taken out and shot, or at least taught how to spell and punctuate.
Update: More Potter lunacy, this time from Royal Mail. Don’t be surprised when you hear your local post office is closing down this spring. The postal services have spending priorities just like everyone else, it’s just that theirs are informed by the logic of a madman.
No seriously. Lembit Öpik has left Siân Lloyd for one of the Cheeky Girls.
We do know each other from two months, but didn’t actually go out together only from two weeks now.
said the Cheeky Girl.
I was going to do a picture or a joke to go with it but then I thought, why should I? Think up your own joke for a change. Go on, piss off.
I’ve just finished reading You Ponce by Lenny ‘The Fuckles’ Maguire. I’ve always poo-pooed those books by gangsters in the past but that was clearly snobbery on my part as it’s actually surprisingly well written. The guy has a peerless grasp of metaphor, for example often using the word ‘machete’ where you or I might say bon mot.
He was clearly trying it on so without further ado I cut him down to size with a well-chosen machete.
I thoroughly recommend the book to anyone as it’s a jolly good read. Next up: ‘Ave That You Twat by Jimmy the Hatchet.
Went to see the infant school Christmas play this morning. The director was clearly a classic surrealist in the tradition of Dali. Anyone who can introduce Mr Incredible and a team of scorpions into the Christmas story without so much as flinching has to be some kind of genius.
Not that I’m taking anything away from the performances, mind. The guy who played Scooby Doo really made the role his own.
Ho Ho Hobgoblin! Santa on his sleigh as re-imagined by Year 2
Irish crooner Chris de Burgh has paid 30 grand for the chest-burster from Alien. (Chris is the one at the top.)
He also has a £14,000 letter from WWI, special healing hands and Miss World for a daughter. I’m telling you, this guy puts the RRROCK! back into rock star.
Rumour has it that Chris has written a special version of his hit song Lady In Red for his little alien, entitled Lady in John Hurt:
Lady In John Hurt
I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight
I’ve never seen you shine so bright
Mm-mm mm-mmmm
I’ve never seen so many men have to hold me down while I died
With you bursting out from inside
Then running off to hide
I have never even really noticed
How you look just like a horse’s cock with teeth
You’re beyond belief
The Lady in John Hurt is hatching in me, little freak
There’s nobody here
It’s just you and me, and-some-blokes-and-Sigourney (Weaver)
But I hardly know this beauty in my insides
I’ll never forget the way you made my chest burst open and all my blood squirt out
I didn’t say it was finished yet but it’ll be done for Christmas.
The wicked moral rot of the Democrats continues its relentless march into all spheres of public life. Today it was Nick Robinson on Radio 4’s PM.
I could barely believe my ears:
Ministers and civil servants when you talk to them privately aren’t thinking about the beginning on today this Queen’s speech, they’re thinking: when’s he off and when’s the nude guy coming.
I’ve always thought very highly of Robinson in the past, but now I can see he’s just as demented and sex-crazed as the rest of them. I can hardly close my eyes without falling prey to the vilest images of him, knocking on my entrance with his Black Rod and such like.
And to think children could have been listening! Thank God ours prefer Radio 3.
Quick! Ooh! Everyone get over-excited! Google’s buying a SPACESHIP! Let’s run around squealing! Let’s call it Space 2.0! Ooh, I like that! Let’s tell everyone! Googlegooglegoogle!
I hope you’ll forgive my scepticism, I’ve had a long day. Plus I’ve managed to get hold of a photo of what’s really going on inside Google’s secret hangar, “Building 43″.
UPDATE: DROP EVERYTHING AGAIN! AMAZON’S BOUGHT ONE TOO!
What’s this? No sign of Diana on the Express front page??
Have they no heart? But wait… what have we over here? Why, if it isn’t the Daily Star, the Express’s special stablemate for those who prefer their daily wad of rat piss unburdened by small print and sentences:
Britain owes a debt of thanks to Richard Desmond for getting this remarkable scoop to us by whatever means available, and bonus points for not cheapening the Express in the process. I do wonder though if anyone’s warned the Star about those £100 fines.
Scientists have proved beyond reasonable doubt that when motorists pass a bearded cyclist in a white coat and wearing a long wig, they give him a wide berth. White van drivers come a little closer (apparently they get off on that kind of thing) whilst Chelsea tractors practically veer into oncoming traffic to avoid it.
It’s all meant to tell us something about cycle helmets but anyone who says they can’t see the metaphor here is just fooling themselves.
It’s just been pointed out to me that Mugabe is “E’ ba gum” backwards.
Also, if you play the theme music to Last Of The Summer Wine backwards and turn the sound right up you can clearly hear the words “Africa must revert to what it was before the imperialists divided it”.
WARNING: NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS.
I’m sure this will all turn out to be some huge practical joke, but I’ve been sent it by two blogrot irregulars now so I felt duty bound to post it.
I am, of course, referring to Channel 4’s screening of the UK’s first charity Masturbate-A-Thon.
The obvious joke is that they’ve been screening rooms full of wankers for years on Big Brother. I’m too tired to think of the non-obvious joke so I’m afraid that will have to do for now.
Meanwhile, you might like to reflect on the event’s bizarre winged dog/cock logo, and where it might have ranked in b3ta’s excellent run down of the best phallic corporate idents.
…then Wah Kazoo must surely be the botulism.
It’s the kazoo, played through a wah-wah pedal. Here, have a listen:
I had an anxious moment today, passing the news cube at Tesco’s, when it looked like the Daily Express had abandoned its tireless quest to uncover the truth behind Princess Diana’s murder by Mossad/Prince Phillip/MI5/the 12-foot lizards. But on closer inspection there it was, just a bit less prominent than usual.
From “The Daily Express: The World’s Greatest Newspaper“
As predictably as night follows day, our friends north of the border have got their knickers all in a twist again about England going to the World Cup while they get to stay at home and mope.
“Aye, the English, they’re so arrogant,” said one chap on Five Live last week. Another one said something else but how am I meant to understand them with those silly accents? They don’t even make an effort.
Meanwhile, sales of mangoes were reported to be up four-fold in Scotland in advance of the England v Trinidad & Tobago match, on account of the number of Carribean-themed party nights that were planned. It actually made me feel a bit sorry for them, having to find other under-achievers to root for when their own under-achievers under-achieve so splendidly they fall right out the bottom of the barrel. Simon Hoggart put it rather succinctly in yesterday’s Guardian:
I feel quite sorry for those Scots who detest England so much. There can be nothing more galling than to loathe someone who in return regards you with benign tolerance. Inevitably the anti-English brigade become like children shouting “I hate you, I hate you!” while the parent smiles and says, “I think he’s over-tired”.
Don’t get me wrong, mind: many of my best friends are English.
UPDATE: I take it all back, they’re right behind us.
