The Hit Parade Volume 3 Issue Thirty Three by Liam R and Claire The Karma Whore
[Editor’s note: fuck count – 19. Still hanging in there]
Well another week and another cancellation. This time I had several good reasons, the first of which was attempting to get my house in some sort of semblance to neatness in anticipation of the arrival of the other half, and as such the ability to get on my computer and update the site was severely limited. Secondly, I was snowed under at work due to the monthly cycle of my job. Thirdly, there was sweet fuck all to report on last week apart from Pete Wentz' ever expanding ego and The Horse Faced Smack Head cancelling her tour. I have no idea why this is, and no-one in the media seems to have a decent explanation either, but the music world seems to go into hibernation during the last two months of one year and first month of the next. This seems puzzling to me as Christmas is the period during the year when music sales are at their highest and you would think that a few well placed stories in major media outlets might bump up those sales figures which in turn lead to higher royalty payments, more gig ticket sales, more merchandise being sold and all round more money being made. But this doesn’t happen, and it all seems to go off during the summer months when bands are on tour. Truly puzzling stuff I'm sure you won't agree. Anyway, this week I've decided that no matter how truly sucky the news that is available for me to report on comment on, I'm going to report and comment on regardless especially as the Karma Whore has done such a bang up job on the chart run-down yet again, but her abilities as a writer have always been thoroughly appreciated by myself and no doubt by anyone who actually reads this. So with all that guff out of the way, let's get to the main bulk of the suck before the good stuff begins shall we?
You Can Fuck Your God Up His Arse: A few years back, the BBC decided to screen 'Jerry Springer: The Opera' which as you can probably tell from its title was derived from the abysmally shit but oddly compelling chat show of the same name. However, the Beeb then received a veritable orgy of complaints including one from a bonkers religious group called Christian Voice. They attempted to prosecute BBC Director General Mark Thompson because they felt that the screening of said musical "clearly crossed the blasphemy line" possibly due to some scenes being set in both Hell featuring Jesus and Satan. You know, there was another TV show that featured a fight between Satan and Jesus and I don't remember this lot of religious fucknuts trying to prosecute them, but then again Trey Parker and Matt Stone are American and have to deal with this inane crap every week so they'd swat them off like the irritating turds they really are. And when did this fucking country become like the Bible Belt in America ? Anyone?
This Is Not Shocking To Me: A few weeks back the NME ran an interview with Morrissey which caused a bit of a public outcry as the Mozzer seemed to insinuate that the country was going down the toilet due to the insane levels of immigrants living here. Considering that half the goods in all my local shops are Polish and that the last time I checked I didn't like in Poland , maybe he has the right idea. Anyway, and almighty bitch slap fight has broken out between the NME and Morrissey over the context of the comments and all that sort of boring fucking crap which seems interesting for about two seconds and then becomes intolerably mind-numbing. The fact is Mozzer that the media in general has one agenda and one agenda only: sell as many copies as possible. It doesn't matter how many lies they spread, how many careers they destroy, as long as the circulation keeps steady or increases they're happy. You've been in the business a while now Stephen, shouldn't you have fucking realised that by now?
About Time: For a while bands and their fans have been kicking up a right old fuss over the reselling of tickets through various means like eBay, where people whack on extortionate amounts on top of the original price to highly sought after gigs. Not only that, but getting a ticket in that manner which is subsequently cancelled means the buyer is not entitled to a refund. As such, various management types have formed a group whereby any tickets sold on again will be subject to a levy of some description so that those unscrupulous bastards selling them will be hit (however small) in the pocket and that means more money going to those hard working musicians and roadies. Of course this means that the people who sell tickets on will no doubt hike their prices even higher in order to recoup the levy imposed on them and therefore we will be back where we started. Isn't this really fucking pointless? I could go on and on about this but I really haven't got the time so maybe next week's rant perhaps?
Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds: I guess at one point in recent years, Robbie Williams must have been the luckiest man in music. After being one-fifth of the most successful boy band ever produced from these septic shores, he stepped out on his own and made a decent fist of a solo career. Three sold-out nights at Knebworth as a big "fuck you" to one-time friend Noel Gallagher, an £80 million record deal, millions of albums and singles sales, yes Williams had it all but right now? His last album tanked, the boy band he left have reformed and are going great guns (though I still hate them) and now he has had to pay undisclosed damages to his former manager in Take That. This all stems from some slurs that Williams made towards Nigel Martin-Smith on a track on his 'Rudebox' album which never saw the light of day, but you really have to wonder why Williams would actually bother with it. After all, without Martin-Smith Williams would definitely not be in the position he finds himself currently would he?
Quick And Dirty Hits: Gibson have made a self-tuning guitar. Doesn't matter to me though because I'll still be fucking rubbish at it… The Kaiser Chiefs will headline the Isle Of Wight festival alongside the Sex Pistols and The Police. My joy is, ah fuck it, I have no joy… Pimp C has been found dead in a hotel room. You know, I have no idea who he is either… Pete Wentz has been banned from Ashlee Simpson's house for Christmas due to his apparent bisexuality and previous suicide attempt. That sound you hear is the Karma Whore bursting into tears…
The Karma Whore Corner: Yep, I have returned. I'm meant to be ranting, but general rantiness has abandoned me and been replaced with a feeling that can only be described as "Meh". It's the time of year I think, the bank account is empty, having spent all my hard earned cash on Crimbo presents, and not the kick arse pair of biker boots I wanted to own. As I pressed my face to the shop window, making small mewing sounds not unlike a kitten, I could hear my mothers voice in my head saying "Why do you need more shoes? you only have two feet". True, but as I have said to her many times, "you have only two arms, so why do you need 300 questionable knitwear items?" I will get those damned boots, not that I have a bike to ride whilst wearing them. I also want a space hopper. This is however, not the best idea. No doubt it would lead to many injuries and I don't think having a day off work because I did myself a mischief whilst "hopping" would go down too well. Am I waffling? Yes I am. I want something to grip my shit, wind me up. Anything is preferable to the "Meh" feeling. I envy those that can get outraged my the smallest things, it must give you a great feeling to be one of those people that cares about the state of the country/ NHS/ small kittens. Usually I have no problem in this area, so I conclude that I must have lost my edge, or my mojo, or my mind even. The only thing, and it's a teeny tiny one, that has actually made me annoyed is, surprise surprise, Heat magazine. Now and again, this pile of shoddy journalism gives its readers a freebie, usually a poster (ooh) or a sheet of stickers (double ooh). A week or two ago, they did the sticker giveaway, you know the type of shit I'm talking about. Those silly things that teenage girls stick on their bedroom doors claiming there love for some fucking no-mark from the X factor etc, etc. Some bright spark at Heat thought it would be highly amusing to print a sticker of Jordan 's son Harvey, complete with caption "oh my god Harvey wants to eat me" or something similar. Now, the poor kid has a multitude of health problems, and I confess I don't know the ins and outs of said illness. But I do know he puts on weight very easily, whether that's due to drugs he has to take or part of his actual illness I have no clue. But to take the piss out of a very sick child to me, is in very poor taste. Yep, sure Jordan and Peter are one of those "celeb" couples that rely on Heat magazine to add to the publicity that they crave, but is poor Harvey ? NO HE FUCKING ISNT! To be honest you would imagine the people at Heat would realise that Jordan might not actually appreciate the gesture, given that despite her liking for getting her baps out, is a bloody fantastic mother, who clearly dotes on all of her children. Allegedly she has gone fucking mental, and I don't doubt that for a second. I hope she takes the bastards for all she can get, they really have shot themselves in the foot haven't they. Given that their entire magazine relies on celebs like Jordan and Peter to grace the cover of their mag, and help them shift shitloads of copies. And she has friends, and her friends are also the type of celebs that frequent the covers of this shitty publication. If I was the person responsible for that decision, quite frankly I'd be shitting my pants, and running to the job center. Heat employees, your a stupid load of fuckers aren't you. Here's the hand that feeds you, go on take a bite...... imbeciles.
Claire takes you through the misery that is the Top Ten so you don't have to…
10. Westlife: Home (S) - I visited a Post Office this week, and there they were, on the in-house TV, singing about going home. There will now be more people entering the Post office with guns, not robbery, but a mass TV shoot up of epic proportions. Louis Walsh's bum fun friends need to die, and soon.
9. Kylie Minogue: 2 Hearts (Parlophone) - I don't like Kylie, I don't hate Kylie either, she is just THERE. Please make her go away, she's fucking everywhere right now. Even her perfume has given me the hump, the bottle is ARSED shape ffs! Never before has someone promoted their pooper quite so much as this woman.
8. Shayne Ward: Breathless (Syco Music) - He's gorgeous, very sexy, and probably very nice. But his music is shit, therefore proving no man has everything.
7. Alicia Keys: No one (J) - Fuck this shit, I'm putting my Led Zeppelin album on.
6. Mark Ronson feat. A** W********: Valerie (Columbia) - Is she dead yet?
5. Timbaland presents Onerepublic: Apologize (Blackground/Inter) - EVERY fucking week this guy is in the charts, and every week you expect me to say something witty/crude or downright nasty about him. I'm fast running out of ideas, and I wish he fucking would.
4. Take That: Rule the world (Polydor) - I find Take That quite pointless, sure they seem pleasant enough chaps, cheeky even. But they serve no purpose. A bit like those house hunting programmes where people look for houses and never actually buy any. Weird analogy I know, a lot cleaner than most of the ones I have in my head. I must be GOOD, Santa is coming.
3. Girls Aloud: Call the shots (Fascination) - The only shots I want are the ones from a shotgun, and aimed in their direction. The spread you get from a shotgun pellet should take them all out at once, or at least maim, I'm easy either way.
2. T2 feat. Jodie Alysha: Heartbroken (2nv/aatw/mnb) - I'm of the understanding that to know what this sounds like you actually have to download or buy it. I refuse to do either, and apparently I'm not allowed to as I don't wear enough Burberry.....
1. Leona Lewis: Bleeding Love (Syco Music) - Does love bleed? No idea, but my bloody ears do now. Someone on a forum somewhere in the land of teh interswebs said she sounded like a cat in a blender. Nope, it's worse than that. That would make a good Channel 4 Tv show though, pop rubbish pop stars in giant blenders, and make them sing 'til they die, you could call it "IN THE MIX" or something.
The Final Word: "It rhymes with 'clucking bell'" - Captain Edmund Blackadder when his last-ditch attempt to get out of certain slaughter fails.