If I Were Garrett Morris...

Brassic Park

2009-07-14T18:22:00.002+01:00

If I were the wife of a BBC executive, upon learning that my husband would not be getting his inflated, undeserved bonus I would write a very strongly worded letter to the BBC Trust demanding it be reinstated, and this is how that letter would go:

Dear Cunts,

How dare you. How very dare you. My husband, a man held in the highest regard within the corporation, deserves every last penny of his bonus and to take it away from him is tantamount to injustuce of the highest degree. Nobody in the history of television programming works harder than BBC executives, working around the clock to fill the schedules with the best shows known to audiences around the globe. Let me list a few of the great shows my husband has been a part of with the BBC and then you tell me he doesn't deserve that bonus!

My Family
Life of Riley
The Green Green Grass
My Hero
According To Bex
Mad About Alice
Orrible
Coming Of Age
Outnumbered
Jam & Jerusalem
Comrade Dad
Chef!
Kiss Me Kate
Keeping Up Appearances
Swiss Toni
Trexx and Flipside
Hyperdrive

Now tell me... that... he doesn't deserve...

Shit.

Fanfart

2009-03-28T21:39:00.000Z

If I were a triumphant return I'd be extremely disappointing.

Yet Another Reason To Vote Labour...

2009-01-09T22:52:00.002Z

If I were Matthew Lewis I'd make sure my next fancy dress costume is even better than the last. Maybe the hacked-out foetus of the poor Afghan rape victim or the 6 six million Jews slaughtered in the Holocaust?

Now, Prince Harry as a Nazi I can tolerate, after all it's a pretty snazzy outfit and probably part of his family heritage if we're honest with each other (which I feel like we can be, dear friends). But dressing up as Madeleine McCann, complete with fake blood, when you're a political activist is just plain stupid. How did he think he was going to escape that without national humiliation and deserved degradation?

Just goes to show you, Gordon Brown might not be perfect but the Tories really are fucking useless.

Professor Of Prankology

2009-01-04T14:05:00.011Z

If I were Pantene Pro-V I'd be a little more subtle in the way I deceived consumers. In this day and age, 6 out of every 10 people know that 93.6% of all statistical information can be manipulated into supporting roughly two thirds of all propaganda materials, from war reports to the effectiveness of probiotic drinks. Of course, the above statement is a crock of shit, much like the majority of advertisement-based science that you can see on any television channel in between any television programmes (apart from on the BBC, God bless 'em, who don't stand for those kind of shenanigans, instead plugging their own wares much like a dogged old prostitute lurching about the streets of London with a withered sandwich board, made from her shattered dreams, displaying the dismally low prices for a go on any of her ravaged holes).

With this not-so-secret shame is allowed to continue on national television (due to the tiniest slither of truth secreted within the aforementioned 'crock of shit' making them legally alright to air) it was to my surprise that I found an obvious admittance to the dastardly deed of lying outright to the general public printed on the back of a bottle of Pantene Pro-V shampoo. Yes, in big bold letters the bottle claimed that its content was wholeheartedly supported by the Institute of Trichologists. The cheek! Trickery, in whichever form of spelling, is despicable, especially when so many rely on the proposed effects to make them feel slightly less hideous to the opposite sex. I suppose the members of the Institute all have PhDs in Conology do they? Degrees earned from the University of Fabrication?

Now, I'll be honest, I haven't actually looked up the phrase "Trichologists" to find out that it's actually something to do with the study of hair follicles or something less incendiary. But that's what's so great about the internet; one needn't bother with research or accuracy in order to write what they want to! A sentence that I imagine is hanging somewhere on the wall of the Daily Mail in order for all of its "journalists" to gaze at in between their hate-fuelled scribblings, mouths agape and saliva pouring from their bile-encrusted lips as their Fuhrer pumps through the speaker system the noise of thousands of children being horribly murdered whilst a voiceover whispers "it was probably the immigrants... or the emo kids..."

What really annoys me is the possibility for inciting acts of exclusion or bullying based upon the adverts' outrageous claims. Things like "9 out of 10 women prefer the smell of Head and Shoulders to that of a dying cow foetus." Just think of the trouble caused by this one sentence. Marjorie, a regular user of Head and Shoulders and one of those 9 out of 10 gals, pops round to Gwen's house for their afternoon tea and a spot of gossip when she excuses herself to nip to the loo. Sitting there, pissing freely, she spots not a bottle of Head and Shoulders sitting on the shower shelf but a bottle of Herbal Essences. Gwen, that bitch. Here Marjorie is, a God-fearing Daily Mail reader, sipping the tea and pissing all over the bowl of a person who enjoys the smell of dying cow foetus'. Outraged and disgusted, Marjorie jumps up without wiping and drips a trail of self-righteous urine through the house and out of the door. Who's going to clean it up? Head and Shoulders? Not likely. Pantene Pro-V? Pull the other one! Poor old Gwen, that's who.

Job 20:08

2008-12-30T16:48:00.005Z

If I were Heather Mills ~~McCartney~~ I'd be in hiding right about now. In this time of global economic crisis anything and everything must be done to ensure that we can get ourselves back on our feet and enjoy our unwarranted Western luxuries. After all, we can't sit around and procrastinate over the best way to help out our Third World inferiors without driving to meetings in our brand new Mercedes Benz, wearing an expertly cut Giorgio Armani suit, and discussing aid over ridiculously priced fish eggs. No sir, we must save ourselves before we save others, and even then only save others if we have enough money left over. That is the Western way and we shall be damned if that's going to change any time soon!

With this terrible situation surrounding us it may be time to turn to more drastic, some might say ludicrous, methods of salvation. We must make a sacrifice to the gods. We must offer up one of our own; someone who personifies Western greed, someone who epitomises pure evil from the bowels of Hell. If I were Heather Mills ~~McCartney~~ I'd soon be roasting away in a wicker leg, given up to higher beings in an attempt to save ourselves and our wonderful personal wealth. And if that didn't work we could always use the £24 million she clawed out of Sir Paul to bankroll the, well, banks again. Long live Western decadence!

Woe unto us...

Ring A Ding Ding

2008-12-21T09:34:00.002Z

If I were an alarm clock I would struggle to live with myself in all honesty. Not a moment would pass when the guilt I faced every morning didn't play on my mind. I'd know that there is nothing worse than being jolted out of beautiful sleep to face the harsh real world at an ungodly time.

I'd feel even worse if I had been programmed to go off with an annoying song, like the theme from Terry and June or the latest N-Dubz classic. Mind you, in that situation I wouldn't be as much to blame as you'd be. The problem is, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't blare the alarm out at a violently audible level. Have you ever tried waking up to a quite alarm? It ain't easy kids.

How about we reach a compromise? I'll play the alarm slightly quieter and you stop setting it to the theme from The A-Team. Deal? Mind you, if I were an alarm clock I wouldn't be able to make such a proposition. I'd be doomed to live my life in misery. Not too different from being human then, eh readers?

If I Make A "Moo-trix" Joke I'm Going To Get Slaughtered

2008-12-12T23:27:00.006Z

If I were a cow, or come to think of it any animal of the bovine persuasion, I'd have one pretty big beef. Ever since The Matrix certain young types (I believe they are referred to as "geeks", "nerds" or simply "spanners") find it empowering to wear an over sized leather duster out and about their local town precinct. Now, I wouldn't mind if one, they looked good, or moo, they performed the basic functions that a coat should but as they don't I think I'm entitled to feel a little grazey about it.

Let's take the look. If what you're going for is a slightly perverted sado-masochist then I admire your brazenness. However, you just look like an udder twat. Heck, Keanu Reeves could barely pull it off and that is one excellent dude. What makes you think a greasy-haired, bespectacled, acne-ridden, bum fluff-sporting pipsqueak can? The coat itself is fairly aesthetic in design; that is to say that it's supposed to look pretty rather than keep you from the wet and the cold (although anyone smart enough would surely check out the leather forecast before leaving the house). Most of them don't even do up at the front, leaving one exposed to the elements. Nor do they come with a cowl to keep you dry.

So if I were a cow and my hide was being made into these overpriced excuses for outerwear I'd say "give them the hoof!"

Oh, and sorry for all the bovine puns but if I were a cow, I'd find them quite amoosing...

Politically (In)Correct Confectionary

2008-12-02T21:58:00.003Z

If I were a piece of Christmas confectionery I'd have one wish this year... that political correctness be left out of the candy world. A usual train journey became rather unusual the other day when I noticed this tasty snack confined to the back of the counter:

What the fuck?

In this age of political correctness, where "Merry Christmas" is frowned upon and replaced with "Happy Holidays", at what point does correctness circle around and become incorrect again? In what way is this any better than a golliwog toy? It's made even worse by the fact that the word "chocolate" is often used to describe black people derogatorily. Colour aside, there is nothing else about the features of jolly ol' Saint Nick that is characteristically black. It's as if Santa, in a terrible error of misjudged humour, has blacked up and started his own Black & White Minstrels act.

If I were a piece of Christmas confectionery, I'd be desperate to just be a piece of Christmas confectionery, not a company's attempt at showing how racially aware it is.

Like A Lady's Mimsy

2008-11-28T23:44:00.003Z

If I were an individual apple pie, I'd have a well structured pastry case. My top would be soft and crumbly, with a little ornamental apple decoration, however my pastry case would be resiliant. Never would anyone have to worry about me falling apart in their hands. They would be able to hold me in one hand and use the other to cup falling crumbs, rather than juggle chunks of sticky apple and pastry. The foil casing I'd sit in before being consumed would be slightly shorter than normal, not quite reaching the tip of my height, therefore making me easier to seperate from it to begin with. Everything about my design would be efficient yet delightful. And my apple filling would almost certainly be Bramley.

Phone Gag No. 5

2008-11-26T23:00:00.004Z

If I were a mobile phone I'd be pretty darn fussed if someone used me to play music on. After all, my primary use would be to make calls. Yeah, it'd be flash for a while as I could show off my Sony Walkman affiliations to the other, musically-challenged phones, but the novelty would wear off quickly. From then on I'd be forced to suffer as the latest Cascada choon was forced through my system and out of my tiny, pitiful speaks at noise levels so ridiculously out of my range that all that can be heard is a terribly, tinny reproduction of the music that was originally uploaded (which in the case of Cascada would not be a bad thing). Worse yet, I'd be embarrassed that I was the cause of such disruption in places such as trains and shops as my council estate owner (with the daft-looking high rise cap perched on the back of his head) ignorantly let my speakers blare to the apparent annoyance of everyone around us.

Although I have to say, I'd be loving the WAP service. My world opened to a universe of knowledge in a few simple button clicks. Shame I'd only get to use it to check the football results and download pictures of Keeley Hazell.

Prick Love For Pricking

2008-11-23T14:43:00.000Z

If I were a heart I'd be broken. For all the tales of true happiness, true loves and true courage are a hundred tales of true sadness, true despair and true heartbreak. The world is a cruel playpen for us, it's bastard children. As if life wasn't hard enough externally we are given these uncontrollable emotions to contend with also. If there is a God, or several, then He is truly the Jigsaw of this world in which we contend with Saw-like tortures of the heart, mind, body and soul. No wonder the human being is prone to self-destruction. We are all Fortune's fool.

He's Not The Messiah, He's A Very Naughty Boy!

2008-11-22T23:06:00.001Z

If I were John Lennon I'd haunt the Pope good and proper. The Vatican have "forgiven" Lennon for saying The Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Apparently he was "just showing off". Do you think the religious 'superior' will ever get tired of dictating to us lowly sinners? It's hard to take them seriously, however, when they act in such a condescening fashion, describing The Beatles' music as a "unique and strange alchemy of sounds and words." A backhanded compliment if ever I've heard one.

Bless 'em. You get the idea that the Vatican thinks the entire world has been boycotting the biggest band in the universe since the late 60s in retaliation for Lennon's blasphemy. When was the last time you listened to a Beatles song? Now, and think really hard, when was the last time you went to church? In reality, I'd wager that more people sit indoors listening to The Beatles of a Sunday morning than those who regularly talk to the Chap Upstairs. Have you read the Bible recently? It hasn't aged well. Revolver on the other hand? Still fucking brilliant.

The Beatles may or may not have been more popular than Jesus in their heyday but, what with the cynical social mindset present in these unfortuitous times, they certainly are today. If I were John Lennon I'd be pretty happy with myself right about now. Although I'd have shagged Yoko Ono too. Can't win 'em all, eh?

Holy Seat!

2008-11-20T22:43:00.000Z

If I were a chair I wouldn't let obese people sit on me. Besides my extremely low threshold to pain it would be a stand against the "growing weight problem" in Britain today. Of course, if you don't read the tabloids and merely look at the people you pass on the street then you'd know that there is no "growing weight problem" in Britain today. Sure, there are a few tubby folks but are there really any more than there were five years ago? I see enough attractive, healthy looking people to make me both suitably jealous and think that it's all a hullabaloo about nothing.

Not that I'd know that of course. I'd be a chair. How would I pass anyone on the street? Think on...

It Means Nothing To Me.... Ahhhh, Obama!

2008-11-10T22:42:00.000Z

If I were Barack Obama I'd be shitting myself right now. He didn't win by that big a margin after all.
If I were Barack Obama I'd make sure I was packing heat before the inauguration. A 9mm poking out the top of my chinos would make all would-be assassins think twice yo.
If I were Barack Obama I'd bitch slap Oprah. She gives black people a bad name. Four hundred years for Oprah? Daaaang.
If I were Barack Obama I'd have game.

If I were Barack Obama I'd be the 44th President of the United States of America. Thank fuck it wasn't Palin.