AntiNews

Believe me, I am busy

2009-07-27T23:01:00.002+01:00

You're probably wondering why I haven't updated this place for well over a month. Have I given up, did myself in or went AWOL? No, i'm still here and i'm still busy just not currently with writing. That's because i'm putting together a new website which has a more portfolio like feel. That allows me to show off all the work i've done elsewhere as well as use it as a blog. It's taken longer than I hoped, thanks to dodgy Wordpress templates (yes, I am jumping ship) and hosting issues but slowly i'm getting there. Very, very slowly.

Soon Antinews will be no more. Soon there will be a more sleek, professional type website housing all my musings and ramblings. And when that thing finally hits one small corner of the interweb i'll post the URL here so the three people I know look at this bloody thing semi-regularly will be able to shifted their attention.

You say you want a (social media) revolution

2009-06-17T16:50:00.000+01:00

The Iranian government may be imposing over zealous sanctions on the foreign press to try and stop them from reporting the grim reality of life in Tehran but much to their chagrin it isn’t stemming the flow of information. While reporters in the country are effectively chained to their desk, away from all the action the people of Iran have taken up the mantle of the fourth estate and are twittering what they here and see while on the streets.

Every death is documented, every disappearance noted and every breach of human rights passed on to hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people across the world by a handful of individuals. They do so knowing they’re being sought after by the government, they’ve received phone calls telling them as much, and they know if they are caught then they’ll probably never be seen again.

Their impact is so big that the illegitimate Iranian government are doing everything in their power to spread misinformation, whether that be through state TV or their own Twitter accounts. Needless to say it’s not working as they’d hoped and people are sticking with the names they know when it comes to Retweeting important info.

The strength of feeling outside Iran is helping the impromptu journalists too, with two sessions of apparently essential maintenance by Twitter being postponed, the latest at the request of the US State Department.

The word history may seem a bit strong but when has a revolution ever been conducted by social media? It’s arguable that if it wasn’t for the use of Twitter the protests would’ve been more bloody and suppressed in the most brutal way possible but the world is watching.

Who knew 140 characters could drag a regime to the brink?

A partial review: The Twitter Comedy Club

2009-06-09T16:36:00.001+01:00

Last night saw the first Twitter Comedy Gig and me, having bugger all else to do and wanting to keep up with all things technological and slightly interesting decided to watch it and write a fairly brief review of some of it…

I logged on to get the dreaded “Too many Tweets” message, which meant I had to keep refreshing the page until the server decided to could accommodate me. I managed to get online just as our host for the evening, Tiernan Douieb, was being introduced.

Now he was probably chosen to do the whole Arthur Smith thing because he’s quite a witty bloke in real life but those attributes simply didn’t transfer well via the medium of 140 character messages. The jokes were hugely unfunny and he became a complete bore towards the end when he resorted to awfully poor Twitter based puns. Ian Huntley probably could’ve done a better job. I was going to cut my losses there and then until he introduced the next ‘performer’, Matt Kirshen.

He promised so much at the start with a handful of funny one liners but eventually began to tell a nonsensical story about a Scientology museum he visited, which required several messages to set up and then another two or three for the punch line. Not only that but he was very, very slow. Suffice to say it killed his part of the gig and it was only the name of Rob Heeney, which I’d actually heard before, that kept me logged on.

Funnily enough Mr. Heeney was up next and he seemed to get the balance spot on - spend most of the gig throwing out one liner after one liner while occasionally bantering with those who had bothered to respond. Actually, that reminds me. One of the major flaws with this gig was that a lot of the people watching didn’t understand the instruction that using the hashtag would fuck the stream up, so continued to use the hashtag and consequently fucked the stream up. This meant you had to wade knee deep through inane, unfunny responses by wankers from all corners of the globe before you got to the actual joke. A real pain in the arse if, like me, you don’t much care for the opinions of randomers.

Heeney was followed by Carl Donnelly who, either in a fit of egotistical madness or sheer laziness, simply posted a YouTube video of one of his IRL (Ha. Look at me using all this interwebz lingo) performances. Reaction was mixed. Personally I thought the video was very funny and his solution was mildly inventive but others, mostly those who weren’t completely turned off by the gig after the first 40 minutes of cack, were quite annoyed.

The first half (and in my case the entire performance) was rounded off by Mitch Benn, whose Twitter reference filled Bohemian Rhapsody cover was bloody inventive but ultimately devoid of any big laughs, Stephen Fry reference aside.

I’d been on for over an hour and I decided that I could justify putting myself through anymore. I logged off. I like to think of it as a virtual flounce, turning on my heal and leaving before the show is over. On paper it was a decent idea but in practice it was painful to watch/read and I don’t think they’ll be doing another in a hurry. If you’re a comedian who can touch type and has a natural repartee you’ll be fine, if not you’ll look like a fool.

Bit of a lazy post but I thought it was interesting...

2009-06-08T15:00:00.002+01:00

...Especially considering the events of last night.

Shamelessly lifted from here: http://www.digitalspy.co.uk/forums/showthread.php?t=1031455&highlight=bnp+councillors

"Simon Goodricke, 45, of Darton, A Barnsley BNP candidate was thrown out of the police force in disgrace and conned an 80-year-old woman out of £1,000 as he awaited trial for perverting the course of justice. This week he was arrested on suspicion of possessing a fire arm after our photographer saw him brandishing a handgun from his front door. The former Solihull Detective Constable, who is standing in the Hoyland Milton Ward at Thursday's council elections, was sentenced to 18 months at Birmingham Crown Court in January 1998. He was found guilty of perverting the course of justice after he tipped off fraudsters attempting to swindle £100m from Columbian drug barons.

Luke Smith (Burnley). Was forced to resign after he smashed a bottle into the face of a Leeds BNP organiser. Despite claiming to be the party of law and order, the BNP failed to call in the police and press charges. Smith had only recently been convicted of football violence when he was elected as a BNP candidate. He has had several more recent convictions and was sentenced to 11 months imprisonment after being caught fighting in Manchester.

Stan Leese, the BNP's candidate in Stoke-on-Trent's Northwood and Birches Head ward, was given the red card by Staffordshire Football Association which stated that his political views were at odds with the FA's equal rights and anti-racism policies. Quite right, too

Brian Turner (Burnley). Was convicted of attacking his wife and a police officer whilst a councillor yet the BNP refused to disown him. In fact they even defended him by issuing a statement saying: “we are not in the business of persecuting our members because the state considers someone guilty.”

Dan Kelley (Barking & Dagenham). Resigned from the council only eight months after being elected after admitting that he was completely out of his depth. “There’s meetings that go right over my head and there’s little point in me being there,” he told the local paper even before he resigned.

Richard Mulhall (Calderdale). Is currently facing charges on housing benefit fraud. Despite this the BNP has refused to disown him or demand his resignation if he is found guilty.

Robert Bailey, leader of the BNP on Barking and Dagenham Council - who, in the run-up to the London Assembly elections launched a tirade of foul-mouthed abuse at Recorder staff - had a face-off with Barking College principal Ted Parker on Monday, just hours before the college held a Love Music Hate Racism (LMHR) event at its Dagenham Road, Dagenham campus. According to Mr Parker, the Alibon ward councillor ordered him to stop hosting such events, or there would be "problems" from BNP members at the college.

Maureen Stowe (Burnley). Left the BNP after admitting that they deliberately told lies to get elected. On leaving the BNP she said: “This is the best thing I could have done. I’ve got a chance to do a lot of good. Now I think we can pull all the people of Burnley together to improve things for everybody. I keep asking myself how could I have been so stupid as to have anything to do with them.”

Robin Evans (Blackburn). Left the BNP after complaining about the drug dealers and football hooligans who dominated his local BNP branch. He also criticised the Burnley BNPcouncillors as useless.

David Watkins (Sandwell). Dubbed ‘possibly the worst councillor in Sandwell,’ Watkins attended just 10 out of 63 meetings. Gave up after just one year.

Steve Batkin (Stoke-on-Trent). Steve Batkin attended none of a possible thirty committee meetings in the nine months to March 2005. Batkin has only spoken twice in his first two years as a councillor and one of those was to ask what “abstain” meant. Was once told to stop talking to the media after he questioned key facts relating to the Holocaust, including saying that Jewish people refused to debate the subject because they would be exposed as liars.

Angela Clarke (Bradford). Resigned from the council less than half-way through her term after her performance was criticised by fellow BNP members.

Terry Farr (Epping). Was suspended by the Standards Board after writing abusive letters. The hearing also said that it was fair political comment for a rival candidate to call the BNP Nazi.

Ramon Johns (Broxbourne). Was elected on the promise to campaign for free bus passes for all the elderly but then immediately voted against such a plan once elected.

James Lloyd (Sandwell). Campaigned on a ticket to make parents responsible for the crimes of their children. What he failed to tell voters was that his own son was one of the areas worst offenders. Also recently put out BNP leaflets claiming a local library building was going to become a mosque. When it was proved that this was a lie he did not apologise but simply claimed that somebody had obviously made up quotes from him.

Adrian Marsden (Calderdale). The absent councillor. In the six months to March 2006, Marsden has attended just three council meetings and his work record for his ward constituents has been even worse. However, he managed to find the time and strength to act as a bodyguard to BNP leader Nick Griffin during the recent court case in Leeds. But then again, what can you expect from a man with several convictions and a long history with the violent neo-nazi group Combat 18.

Geoffrey Wallace (Calderdale). Wallace jumped ship from the Tories when he thought he could not win a council seat under the blue flag but refused to call a by-election. He too stood on a ticket to help local people but his record proves he has done nothing of the kind. His recent performance in dealing with casework from local residents is truly shocking and clearly demonstrates his inability to work for local people. In the four months to February 2006 he did only 14.5 hours casework, and all but three were in the last few weeks."

"Yo' manager is a paedo, blud!"

2009-06-04T17:00:00.008+01:00

We had possibly the last ever journo piss up last night, which was a bit gutting. It made everything seem so very final and it kind of hit home that I’m done with university life. Bugger. The night itself was good.

It started in the Ivy at 7 (although since I’m always fashionably late me and Goodacre strolled in at half past) for a few swift jars before heading on to Marcello’s. There was 14 of us which means the poor sods at Marcello’s probably had to knock a few walls through to fit us all in. As you can gather it’s not the largest place in the world so trying to fit in over a dozen slightly rowdy students was one hell of a struggle.

The food there was alright, nothing to write home about really. I got the Penne Arrabiata since on the menu it promised to be spicy. It wasn’t. It did look like something you could buy in Asda and hoy in the microwave for a few minutes and it tasted similar too but it filled a hole. The meal was somewhat soured by Hal trying to shiv me in the side with a butter knife as well as the headache I moaned about in yesterdays rant creeping back. The bill was £210 so, being students, we only gave them a tip of about £3.50. I still feel embarrassed about that now, especially considering we had to drag out the waiter to take our ‘team photo’ which I will post below.

The session then commenced. Straight into Varsity for drinks, shits and giggles. It was dead but that didn’t mean we got served any quicker at the bar since the one or two people serving were fucking atrocious. You’d have thought they were actually brewing the piss weak Fosters themselves rather than just pulling it. We found a table, sat down, slagged off people who weren’t there and the general state of our former course. Naughty words were said very loudly and we feigned interest in the replay of the Lions match which was on the screens near the bar.

The gaggle of preening fuckwits a few tables along started to sing Stand By Me so we upped and left of our own accord, which is a result for me as the last time I was in I was ejected for drawing on the walls (long story). By this time most people were making their excuses and leaving so only five or six of us were left out. We then moved on to Ttonic, mainly due to Chappers moaning he wanted to go somewhere where he could get mortal on the cheap. It was canny busy so we found what we thought was a quiet corner, unaware of the Bose speaker above our heads churning out shite dance. More general nattering occurred, including accusing Jamie of being a racist as he’s from Burnley. Bonkers came on and we all sat bobbing our heads going “It’s a choon this!” before the music reverted to type.

I saw a fairly interesting confrontation in the toilets between a lad having a piss and the bog attendant. Said pissy lad was turning around and berating the attendant about the team he supported, by shouting “Your manager is a paedophile!” at the top of his voice. It later emerged he meant Arsene Wenger, which I thought was hilarious in my slightly drunken state, mainly because I didn’t know the basis for his accusation. Was it simply because Wenger bought young talent or had he touched up the lad in question? Wish I’d asked now.

We finally decided to go clubbing and ended up in Blu Bambu due to the shocking selection of clubs on a Wednesday evening (Diva was shut. Gutting). It was quite prominently advertising the fact Neil from the Inbetweeners was appearing so we took up positions in the room upstairs overlooking the dance floor and stage. Neil wasn’t there but it seems that a lookalike was who was so unconvincing that the first time he got up on stage for a bit of a dance the bouncers actually tried to kick him off thinking he was some regular punter. That old break dancing bugger from Britain’s Got Talent was there too, standing on his head and generally being patronisingly cheered by all the gurning tarts on the dance floor.

Upstairs was a different kettle of fish. The DJ looked like he’d be more at home in some trendy Indie dive and his music selection confirmed as much (despite the fact he put on an awful remix of D.A.N.C.E. when I asked him to whack some Justice on). Highlight of the night had to be the Limp Bizkit/Papa Roach combo which made me feel like an angst ridden 13 year old again for all of six or seven minutes. Of all the things I expected shite nu-metal played in Bambu was very close to the bottom of the list.

Because we were fairly fucked by this time we had taken to sloshing or drinks about and spilling a fair amount. I almost went my length a couple of times on the ridiculously slippy floor, once when I was taking the piss out of Hal for nearly going arse over tit on the same spot. Eventually tedium set in and I made a swift exit.

Pizza from Chilinos and a taxi ride with the most blinkered Sunderland fan I have ever met ensued. The poor sod was dying to say they were going to qualify for the Champions League next year and spewed forth clichéd “It’s our time” sound bites. He dropped me off, I gave him my cash, I made some self depreciating comment about Newcastle playing Gateshead in a few seasons time and I struggled with my front door key. Happy days.

As promised here’s the group photo as well as some other stuff…

Top (L-R): Carter, Timlin, Hal, Goodacre, Chappers (Leaning down, calling me a wanker), Jamie, Raisbeck
Bottom (L-R): Angry Dave, Monica, Jen, Grainger, Myself, Bramble, Steve

Hal and I, after the knife fight

Steve having a cry

Big nose, bum chin

More photos will be put up later if I can be arsed.

P.S. - I feel I need to at least mention the ten minutes of near constant Lavelle impression, which were as always fantastic. It felt like everyone chipped in with one and they managed to be unique but at the same time exactly the same.

Down but not out

2009-06-03T16:24:00.001+01:00

Newcastle were relegated. Boo hoo. After making my way through the five stages of grief (“We’re not down, we can’t be”, “Fucking hell! I’m going to lamp Mike Ashley if I see him!”, “If Phil Brown is caught match fixing I’ll give away my first born”, *sob* “What’s the point in following football anymore?” and “So what, we’re relegated. Not the end of the world”) I’ve came out of the other side and I’ve realised that there are some plus points to not being in the top flight.

Firstly there are more games. Championship teams seem to play every other day which means the depressing midweek lull after a bad defeat wont have time to set it as the players will be back on the pitch kicking the ball around in no time. Okay, I’ve no doubt that if some of our higher paid stars hang about they’ll bleat and moan about being tired but they already proved last season they’re feckless wankers. Any crying about fixture congestion and I’ll hunt them down and remind them that from the ages of 7 to 14 I played football almost every day for more than 90 minutes, not because I got paid but because I wanted to. There’s no doubt in my mind that the 17 a-side day long matches on the Oasis field required more physical fitness than 90 minutes in the Championship.

There is also the chance we’ll get to see some of the future stars we’ve been poaching play a few games. Nile Ranger, Haris Vuckic, Kazenga Lua Lua and Tamas Kadar were all on the verge of the first team in the top flight so they must be in contention for starts in the Championship. Oh, and we’ll probably get to see Tim Krul again, which almost makes up for the relegation in one fell swoop.

Prior to us going down I had nothing but disdain for those who said “Relegation will give you a chance to rebuild” as we could’ve rebuilt in the Premiership plus we wouldn’t have had to put ourselves in financial peril to do so. Now though I’m repeating the “chance to rebuild” mantra because it makes me feel better about the whole situation.

Sky can do one too. I don’t need to listen to Keys and Gray mull over every decision and examine every tiny error before chuckling to themselves and reminding the viewers that the Premier League is the best league in the world (It’s not. La Liga is).

The biggest plus though, is that we might win more than half a dozen games in a season. I’ve forgotten what that feels like.

There are some negatives though, the main one being that our searches for new managers and players aren’t going to land us with the best in the world. Our current search for a new owner too probably isn’t going to result in us being bought out by a mega rich oligarch or sheikh who’ll throw money at the club because they seem to prefer to buy teams already in the top flight. That’s a bit of a pain as I’m going to have to radically readjust the expectations I’ve carried since I was five years old. We’ve always made an attempt to get the best players in the world and while nine times out of ten it failed it was still bloody entertaining. It could take some getting used to.

Forgive me if I’m rambling or if i've made a tonne of spelling mistakes. This is just a very quick post as I’ve got a splitting headache and I don’t want to look at the screen for too long.

Bloody Nasty People

2009-06-01T13:26:00.004+01:00

With the Euro elections right around the corner and the ‘big three’ parties conspiring with each other to make themselves look as unscrupulous as possible it’s no surprise that the minority political entities have went into overdrive on the self promotion front. Leaflet after leaflet has landed on my doormat detailing the various madcap policies of the parties both to the left and the right. This gives me a nice early morning chuckle but one leaflet inparticular had me nailed to the wall and it was from those lovely chaps at the BNP.

Lets get one thing straight, this isn’t going to be an witty rebuttal against the jackboot wearing arseholes, Charlie Brooker did that better than I could only a few weeks ago, but my honest opinion of their policies and how we should deal with them.

Lets make no bones about it, they’re scum in suits. They’ve worked very hard to paint themselves as consummate professionals, kissing babies (as long as they’re white) and voicing their concerns about the plight of the working man. Underneath they’re a bunch of two-bit racists and always will be. I’ve heard one or two of the thicker people I know moan that the recent articles in the likes of the Guardian, the Independent and The Sun, yes The Sun, are nothing more than smear stories put out by the lefty press. Horseshite, I say. The majority of these stories about the BNP being fans of Hitler, eugenics and rape come to light because members are too thick to cover their backsides and keep their various abhorrent views to themselves. If you’re going to post on your blog that martial rape is the same as force feeding a woman chocolate you’re going to get dragged through the dirt and rightly so.

It can’t just be a coincidence that almost every prominent member of the BNP seems to believe in ideas that the average man on the street finds repulsive. And this from the party which claims it represents the silent majority?

Behind the worrying personal views are the policies, which go far to paint the party as a whole as completely comical. I suggest you search out the 2005 General Election manifesto, which is a particular favourite of mine. It details how they’re going to move parliament to the Isle of Man, ‘invite’ Ireland back to the union while sending armed troops to the border, give every citizen a rifle (“Don’t look down the barrel, Nana! You’ll blow your bloody head off!”) and relax laws that apparently stop free speech…while simultaneously pushing through laws to stifle the press. It’s beyond parody.

It’s for that reason that I think the BNP should be allowed equal footing. They should be allowed to stand in the street and canvas like any other political party because they’re so ridiculous, so bloody thick, they’ll eventually be hoisted by their own petard. Letting them talk themselves out of votes will be more effective in the long term than duffing them up and forcing them underground.

We’ve got nothing to fear from the BNP. They will forever be made up of scared, bigoted idiots and nothing more. By and large the general public aren’t stupid (despite what the viewing figures for Britain’s Got Talent tell you) and they aren’t nasty either. We may be in the midst of an awful recession with career politicians from every party using taxpayers money for God knows what but we’ve bugger all to worry about. Sure, they may win one or two seats at the Euro elections but it’ll be through protest voting rather than any groundswell of support. Everything will return to normal in a year or two and Nick Griffin will once again be consigned to talking in pubs to a handful of skinheads.

Compilation albums - Keeping Katie Melua in business

2008-02-07T22:33:00.000Z

"It seems like there’s not a month that goes by when we’re not celebrating something. Hallmark holidays have became common place and people are more than willing to stream into shops to search for that special gift. And what better way to say I love you than a compilation album?

Long gone are the days when patience, good timing and a cassette was all that was needed to create that perfect set of songs, now the record companies are more than willing to do it all for you. That is, if your idea of ‘perfect’ is the stereotypical set of tunes championed by every DJ this side of Radio 1. Every year the same album is released and somehow, it sells. It doesn’t matter that the track listing is almost identical to the year before, people buy it. The use of Golden Earring’s Radar Love on every driving album since the beginning of time is enough to keep the band in curly perms and corduroy trousers until the day they die.

We all know that certain products are geared toward a certain time of year, but none are as blatantly opportunistic and unsubtle as these CD’s. At least Milk Tray had an image carved out by those savvy marketing types. Yes, it required just as little thought as buying the annual ‘Dad Rock’ album but in the past a tuxedo wearing stranger sneaking into your house and leaving a box of chocolates on the pillow was romantic. Now it’s an arrestable offence.

When that time of the month inevitably comes round again and you need to buy something for someone, do yourself a favour and stick with the petrol station forecourt flowers. The smell of Premium Unleaded says “I love you” better than Essential Acoustic Love Songs 6 ever could."

This is a rant I wrote for my magazine class in University. Hope you liked...

Formatting - fucked, general mood - poor, lager - Carling. Need I say more?

2007-12-30T01:23:00.000Z

It's came to my attention after having more than a quick glance at this place that the spacing between the lines of my last two posts is, shall we say...schizophrenic. I've narrowed it down to two things. It's either Firefox or something to do with the inclusion of images and smallish text. I could narrow it down to one of those things or solve the problem altogether if I didn't feel the need to vomit every time I used Internet Explorer and/or I wasn't pissed.

Newcastle lost today, which is far from fantastic but the result was a surprise. 2-1 at Chelsea? I thought we were going to get fucking hammered. Speaking of Newcastle, i've finally finished my article for True Faith and I e-mailed it this morning. Hopefully i'll get a bit of feedback off Mr. Martin so I know whether it's up to standard or my cynical tone has destroyed the piece and he wants it rewritten.

You may have noticed that there is no specific basis to this post and it just seems to be an update on my life in general. Don't worry this isn't a regular thing, just a way for me to acknowledge some issues that may or may not have been bothering you and to inform you i'm a bit pissed.

Anyway, i'm off to watch a bit more John Pilger and get myself worked up into a left wing hissy fit.

Christ, Sonia's lost a lot of weight

2007-12-28T17:45:00.001Z

Every year celebrities cash in on their own toned bodies and the foolishness of the public by putting out workout videos. These comprise solely of push, thrusts, jives and squats but still claim to allow you to shed all of your fat fucking blubber if you spend just 45 minutes a week doing the exercises. Too good to be true? You're quite fucking right, it is!

First of all, these are 'celebrities'. I use the term very loosely, as most of them aren't strictly on the A list but they have got a lot of money. This amount of cash can buy you all sorts of things like botox, a tonne of Nivea Visage, a very good stylist and a few sessions of liposuction, as shown by the East End's resident heffa Sonia Fowler on the box above. For all I know she may have lost two and a half stone through legitimate exercise, but all i'm saying is without daily trips to the gym I don't think it's possible. If all I needed to do t get a body like Brad Pitt was a few pelvic thrusts, i'd be well away.

There is only one thing worse than used-to-be-fat soap stars flaunting their new body in front of the faces of Britian's needy and self conscious and that is the clan of already drop dead gorgeous models and television presenters squeezing into the skimpiest leotard possible to "show you how they keep in fit"...Yeah, whatever. Is there really a market for this sort of thing, outside the teenage boys who'll watch it but only to give one specific muscle a work out? Sure, Janice Battersby losing a few stone and throwing out a DVD to show how it's done is slightly plausable but Nell McAndrew? I doubt she's done a sit up in her fucking life!

There are the occasional serial offenders. Jordan seems to have one out every year usually wearing some garish tracksuit, with husband Peter Andre and children in tow. This makes the whole thing look more like "Charv! The Musical!" than a legitimate work out video. Replace the bright pink back lit studio wall with a bus stop and Bob's your uncle. Speaking of Jordan, i'm very surprised her evil twin Jodie Marsh hasn't put one out this year as she seems to be clinging to fame by her finger nails. Maybe she's given up and has went back to being a skanny Essex girl with nothing more than a slack fanny?

What type of person is reality TV breeding?

2007-12-27T00:41:00.003Z

Christmas is an oh so happy time. If i'm not spending the day in bed nursing a very big hangover, i'm usually making a half arsed effort to play or watch my newly received games and DVDs. In all my 20 years on this Earth i've never once had to spend my days head in a drawer, trying to find the receipt of a present I bought for someone because they didn't like it. There have been times when i've been less than confident that my purchase will be greeted with open arms but I used to think that I was a fairly good present buyer. I say 'used' because come about half ten on Christmas morning i'd handed over a present, had it sneered at and then handed back. What's worse, it's something that I thought was a safe bet - a CD by a reality TV star, for someone who really loves reality TV.

I should define the term 'really loves'. By that I mean watches every single reality TV show ever created, moans when they're not on and occasionally votes in them. I used to imagine that the room of a mental hospital smeared with shit in such a fashion that it bears a very slight resemblance to anybody who's ever entered Big Brother was enough to reduce the cannon fodder that is reality TV viewers into a blithering mess but no. This really confused me, I couldn't get my head around the fact that anyone who is this dedicated to the format doesn't have an interest in the participants the minute the credits role. What the fuck are you watching it for!? Simon Cowell and his fucking ridiculously text book hairstyle? Graham Norton and his unfunny double entendres? Apparently so.

Is it for the competition? Because if so then why doesn't one of the few 'competitions' that matter, the General Election, get a paltry turn out and the mere mention of politics put a lot of people to sleep? Maybe if we set it in a studio, had it hosted by Kate "I'm a slim, blonde, young woman who looks a bit dirty. Why am I not attractive?" Thornton, cut off a limb of the losing contestant and threw it into the baying crowd in the studio we'd get a better turn out? Actually, that's a fucking good idea. We would need to work out a way to rig it so David Cameron lost every week until he's just a side parting in a jar though.

Anyway, back to the CD. It was a release from smug faced Any Dream Will Do winner Lee Mead. Judging from the track listing he's decided that he's going to ruin the glittering careers of the Rolling Stones, Frank Sinatra and erm...Jason Donovan. Even though I haven't heard it i'm willing to bet it's shit and depending on how well liked he is by the public that voted for him, it'll either sell tonnes or not very many at all. It always a crying shame when someone off a reality TV show sticks in the public consciousness for more than a couple of days. Usually it's the ones of Big Brother, who've became famous for being able to act like an amicable human being in isolation, that are the worse offenders. Occasionally one or two people do come out of these shows with a genuine talent and rightly become stars, Will Young being one example. Now, I don't like the lad, mainly because I can't trust a man with a jaw that size, but you'd have to be a fairly big tit to say that he hasn't got any talent. He's one of the few that's managed to keep his head above water once he's been given the shove from the S.S. Cheap Tele which obviously tells you something.

Anyway, i'm sick of talking about this. Off to kick some arse on PES2008.