Gordon Brown - Charlie Brooker

I love this, spot on Charlie!

" If real life were a movie, instead of a cruel and horrifying string of random unfolding events, the mortifying slow-motion car crash that is Gordon Brown's premiership would inspire pity in all but the most stone-hearted audience member. Assailed from all directions, stumbling, bumbling, droning, punch-drunk, hapless, hopeless, and aching with palpable misery, he increasingly resembles a depressed elephant, slowly being felled by a thousand pin-sized arrows fired into his hide by a million tiny natives, still somehow moving forward, trudging wearily toward its allotted graveyard-slot with morose resignation.
Here is a man apparently allergic to luck. Nothing goes right for the Brown minister. He can't even pop on to YouTube and attempt a smile without everyone laughing and calling him creepy. And they're right. The smiles were creepy: they made him look like the long-dead corpse of a gameshow host resurrected by a crazed scientist in some satirical horror movie. It's Saturday night, live from Television Centre! The theme tune plays on a church organ. Your children shriek when he bounds on to the screen. As he descends the glittering staircase, one decomposing arm drops off at the shoulder socket, hitting the studio floor with a damp thud. Oblivious, he steps over it to approach camera one, gazing down the lens with frozen eyes, intermittently twitching that smile. Your screen cracks. Hot plasma leaks out. This broadcast is over."


Taken from: http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/may/11/charlie-brooker-gordon-brown (Without permission, as noone reads this anyway!)

Zen by Langya

Think of Trees: "They let the birds perch and fly, with no intention to call them when they come and no longing for their return when they fly away. If people's hearts can be like the trees, they will not be off the Way. "

Gavin & Stacey? Actually I'd rather drink a pint of my best mates piss, thanks.

I can see the look of outrage on many faces.

"What?! What?! But it's great! People told me it's great so it's great! I read the Daily Star, and it too said it was great! So it must be!"

No.

No, no no no.

What you need to do, is calm down, take a step back, then slap yourself in the face with fucking big wet fish and dunk your head in a bucket of cold water, also filled with fish (wet, naturally).

Then, once you've calmed down, dig out your DVD of Spaced, a big bucket of Pop Corn Chicken, sit down and and hit play.

You need to remind yourself of what a good comedy is actually like, and with this, realise that the only reason you think this puke filled pinata you like to hit so much is good, is because there is nothing else good on. You are a hungry man/woman being thrown a moldy cracker, and that's why you think it tastes divine.

Indulge in a banquet of calorific indulgent comedy until you are happy and full.

Now watch Gavin and Stacey again, it will make you sick.

Why?

It starts with the fat fuck.

James Corden is the principle reason I hate this program.

Not because he is fat, but because this stupid talentless wank stain makes the assumption (like all the other wank stains that sully the table cloth of British comedy), that because he puts on a stupidly bad 'common' accent, that is completely out of touch with the youth of today - yet what the middle classes (of which he happens to be a member) would associate as being an accurate portrayal of, that he is funny.

No my friend, you are not funny, just another stupid fat f*ck, much like Johnny Vegas, and I'd hasten to add, nothing like Nick Frost.

In my eyes, they (they being him and his equally talentless & stupid friend) are obviously and quite toe nail's off with pliers painfully, trying to akin themselves to being like a 'new' Simon Pegg & Nick Frost of Shaun of the dead/Spaced fame.

Now as if that wasn't bad enough, these stupid talentless fucks have attempted to make a film of a similar nature to Pegg & Frost's Shaun of the dead, and given it the 'does what it says on the tin'- for all the thick fucks out there name of 'Lesbian Vampire Killers'.

So not only are they marketing themselves to the middle classes who can scoff and say, 'thats right Margo, that's how they talk!', they will also appeal to the 14 year old spotty faced nightmares who will drool over every bad joke, punch line and pair of tits that burts onto the screen in blind adoration.

I will not stand for it, and shall not let it go unsaid.

Are you listening to me you pair of cheap happy shopper, bargain basement, 'Tommy Hillfinger, 'I'm fat he's thing so this must be funny', dumb-arse, shit eating grin-faced piss flaps, destroying whatever hopes the future holds for inspiring good comedy of the future?

Stop it now! End your cancerous reign on television and stop appearing on my TV!

Or if you must, stick to the pre-existing shit-on-a-stick programs like the Catherine Tate show, where you belong. Breed underground so we (the decent and valued) don't have to be reminded that projectile cat vomited balls of cack like you exist, and live happy and peaceful lives.

For the good of humanity, put an end to the madness!

CK

today

Sinking like a lead balloon