Pah!
I got one, so I felt obliged to give one back. I hope she appreciates it. It cost me 50p.
This is getting beyond a joke now. Yet another friggn’ dance show is starting… ‘Dancing on Wheels’ supposedly gives wheelchair users the chance to show off their ballroom prowess. Only they’re not actually dancing, are they? Because they can’t. More like they’re wheeling around the floor whilst some fit, scantily-clad tart cavorts around them.
Now I know you can’t stop disabled people from dancing, even if they can’t, because that’s just wrong. And I suppose TV has to show they’re doing their bit for the cause. But this got me thinking about other possible themes for dance shows and I came up with some quite exciting ideas.
What about ‘Blindman’s La Bamba’, ‘Epilepsy on Ice’, ‘Synchronised Spastics’ or ‘Formation Fuckwits’. Methinks they would be much more entertaining than all the shite dance shows that they’re showing on the box now. You could even have a unification show at the end of each series to find the Supreme Champion: ‘Epileptics v Spastics – Dance ’til You Drop – The Showdown’.
This week Jack got twatted by a Tazer, strapped to a chair and repeatedly punched in the face. Just fifteen minutes later, he was driving a car, coherent, without a sign of blood or any apparent bruising.
Meanwhile, another ex FBI agent, who’s still experiencing major trauma from her last undercover job six years ago is also roped in to work for CTU without a badge or any proper authority. Now that’s magic!
Inspired by the grumpiness of Mick Moonshine in my previous post, I’ve decided to create my own Shit List. How’s this for starters…
- That black guy on the tele who says “Red Tomaaaatoooes”. Change the fuckin’ record!
- Folks who look inside their sandwich before taking a bite. Ain’t that why food hygiene standards were thought up?
- Pseudo-intellectuals who make ” ” marks in the air with their fingers. Or any tosser that does it, for that matter.
- People who say “Absolutely” in response to a statement or question. I think this one includes most of the Earth’s population, actually.
- Drivers who don’t think it’s necessary to indicate at roundabouts. Ignorant bastards.
- Drinkers who stand at the bar, blissfully unconcerned about the fact that you (that’s me, mainly) can’t get served. Ignorant bastards.
- Anyone who appears on ‘Strictly Come Dancing’. And the theme music for it. Kill me now… Aaaaaarrrrgh!!!
- Ex-celebs that do really pants TV commercials for insurance companies because they can no longer get proper jobs. Get some friggin’ self respect innit?
- Proud new parents who constantly change the subject around to baby stuff and bore you shitless with all the details, right down to the colour of nappy contents. Please shut up or fuck off. I’m not remotely interested.
- Sad fucks that maintain blogs, especially ones about being grumpy. Errrr…
Lots more to come.
Woohoo! The waiting is over. Jack’s back and 24 has exploded back on to our television screens. I say exploded – It was more of a phhhhhht! really. A bit like a wet trouser cough. Only more violent.
Anyway, within the first ten minutes there was a firefight in the middle of L.A. involving three blokes using automatic weapons. Street sprayed with bullets, one chap shot in the shoulder, one smashed up car, loads of noise, blood and pain. No bystanders saw or heard anything. Well, if they did, the dimwits didn’t think to call the cops.
Over to the shiny new headquarters of C.T.U. (Counter Terrorist Unit). It got explodipated in the last series so they had to build a new one. I think it’s a studio set really.
Now I don’t know this for a fact, but as I can’t use a mobile phone in a hospital, library, police station or even some pubs, I think it’s a pretty safe bet that you wouldn’t be allowed to use them to take personal calls from terrorists in a top-security establishment such as CTU. Correct me if I’m wrong.
Similarly, I don’t know whether they’ve got a work dress code but I suspect that bird wearing a sleeveless little black party dress and sky-high heels was stretching the rules a bit.
I’ll overlook the fact that Jack, even though he doesn’t work for the Government anymore, is allowed into CTU without clearance and walks round like he owns the place, because you know he going to save the day single-handedly. And that makes it OK.
Haven’t done one of these lately, but I’ve just been reminded of a cracker: Blue-sky thinking.
I think, therefore a yam.
Call me, yeah?
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