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The chronicles of Ruin, continued. Call me Ishmael said....intelligence is knowing what to do when you don't know what to do. Anonymous said... When I don't know what to do,I come here. 10 September 2009 22:59
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2009
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September
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- THE MOULD-BREAKERS, NOT BREAKING ANY MOULDS
- LITTLE MAN YOU'VE HAD A BUSY DAY
- KILLIECRANKIE
- A BROWN CELEBRATION
- NEWS FROM SCOTLAND
- FUCK OFF, DEBBIE PURDY
- THE COLD DAYS OF FEBRUARY, THE INCREDIBLE STRING BAND
- SHELL SHOCK, THE EMPIRE BURLESQUE CONTINUUM.
- DOWN THE HIGHWAY
- THE LONESOME DEATH OF FIONA PILKINGTON.
- WHAT THE PAPERS SAY. UNCLE SAM, THE IGNOBLE SAVAGE.
- WOTSONTELLY, A PORTRAIT OF SCOTLAND. BBC 4
- GAUGUIN AT TATE MODERN, NEXT YEAR.
- RUMPOLE NEWS, POLICE UNABLE TO FRAME TEENAGERS SHO...
- FAB MOPSTER ON FINE FORM
- TUC NEWS. BROWN FINALLY SAYS THE W WORD.
- LUVVIE COOK DRINKS, EATS AND SMOKES HIMSELF TO DEATH.
- WHAT THE PAPERS SAY, CONSPIRACY TRIO JAILED, THE T...
- Famous Heterophobe told: FUCK OFF BALDY!!!
- OH FREUNDE, NICHT DIESER TONE...
- WHAT THE PAPERS SAY, IMELDA SLOTGOB TO DIVORCE.
- VOTE FOR ME, IT'S THE RIGHT SOL-YOU-SHUN
- KEEP THE HOME FIRES BURNING.
- TALKIN' WORLD WAR THREE BLUES
- SPEAKER BERKOFF HIRES SPIN DOCTOR. AT OUR EXPENSE
- UNDUE PROCESS. THE ENVY OF THE WORLD.
- HUBBLE BUBBLE, FROM NASA, THE BUTTERFLY NEBULA.
- THAT PARDON, THE FULL STORY.
- MORE FROM POLLY TOYNBEE'S LAST CHANCE SALON
- ROCK'N'ROLL STUDIES, NUMBER 12 &35, THAT LEICESTER...
- THE NAUGHTY STEP
- DECONSTRUCTION.
- IRA BOMD DEFUSED. A PROPER TERRORIST SPEAKS
- THAT BMA SURVEY IN FULL.
- THE CORPORATION SPEAKS.
- WHAT THE PAPERS SAY.
- HAVE I GOT SHIT PRODUCTS FOR YOU
- AN OLD MAN SINGS RICHARD THOMPSON, A MAN HAS TO KN...
- LABOUR OIK STAMPS FOOT
- AN OLD LADY SINGS RICHARD THOMPSON, AN UNAMBIGOUS ...
- WOTSONTELLY. SPINNING, IN HIS GRAVE.
- TOO MUCH TOO MUCH MONKEY BUSINESS
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September
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18 comments:
I don't think Paul Merton's ever been funny. Good that You Tube have sorted it out - been watching Bill for an hour or so - quite a few i've not seen. Cheers Ishmael.
I shit you not but i've settled down for a night watching the Big Brother final - I love its voyeurism. Cheers again.
Me neither, mr DTP, It's kind of a madness, Merton; makes me feel quite sick, reducto ad absurdum is what he does, always, for ever and fucking ever, not wired-up properly, I don't think; in earlier times he'd a been in a loonybin with a canary in a floorless cage strapped to his shaven head, hope he's not in my corner of Hell, the mad bastard; no wonder his wives all die or fuck off. Should get them insured with Direct Line, like I do Buster, the thieving fucking bastards. Still, on his own he can sit and watch silent movies, and count his money; Merton, that is, not Buster, Buster doesn't handle money, like the Queen and her family, nothing so fucking vulgar.
Steven Fry is pally with the Prince of fucking Wales, at least there's no chance of HRH banging Fry's old lady, like he does with his other mates, the useless fucking bastard, both of them, that is.
Nicholas Parsons, he's another one, when I was in the fucking womb he was on TV being straight man to some pisshead tragedy called Dickie Henderson. And he hasn't changed in all that time, poncy, urbane, blazer and flannels, like a cashiered captain. Saw a documentary a few years back, Parsons and his grandbrat, God, she fucking hated him. At least Bruce Forsyth can play the piano a bit and dance a bit; hasn't made a career out of correcting people.
Are you just upset that Humphey Littleton pegged it? Ned Sherrin & Clement Freud fucked off too. I've really started to like Nick Parsons, he kinda conveys a different age where people made their own fun. Apparently google are genuinely now a library - err... seems pretty good really. This blogging thing is kinda cool - some sort of Liberty. Cheers man - love to family.
Interesting merton/FRy dubb. sort of itchey and scratchy .
Ruin has had a vison , the clouds parted and a vison of a 60ft tall dodo appeared , a voice from the heavens proclaimed "unto you and your party i give ye this as a symbol of your works on earth"
Up pops Neil Kinnock "keep going laddo he tried that one on me "
voice from heaven "that is incorrect mr kinnock I gave ye the sign of the turkey and low ye did work for the EU"
Thanks Mr Ishmael. Bill was one of the Good Guys, I think.
Dickie Henderson? Good grief, man. If you had Dickie, Arthur Askey and Ted Ray and just the two barrels, which bastard would you let live?
Faced with such a trio, I expect I'd use them both on myself. And don't forget Tommy Trinder.
Not a conventionally nice man, Hicks is all over YouTube, raging and drooling, uncompromising, illuminating, all the things, given it's momentum, order-order might have been, had it not turned into the PizzaHouseOfBlood. Have a look at him if you haven't seen him - and even if you have.
The horrors of ATV-land were many and varied. My dad used to laugh at Charlie Drake. Do we recall One-Joke-Charlie? He was a short arse character and used to talk to ladies' tits - said items being at his eye level. "Hello, my darlings", he'd say to these boobs about every five minutes, and my father, silly old sod, would roar with laughter. Charlie was a sort of Bennie Hill for imbeciles.
TV comedy, eh? Shoot the blasted lot of 'em.
Bill Hicks is spot on...on just about everything. As for TV comedians, Chris Morris still makes me laugh. I wonder what he is doing now?
Bootsy & Snudge. Met father once met that George Formby. Bill Hicks magnificent, and harks back to Lenny Bruce who harks back too Lord Buckley who harks back to anyone who rages against the machine.
Dickie Henderson I once saw on some late night show, telling unbelievable dirty jokes. Actually very funny. Odd smatterings of truly funny English comics. Tommy Cooper. Les Dawson on the piano.
My father took Formby to a party on his brother-in-law's ship, about to disembark on the one of the Arctic Convoys; Formby another with magnificently filthy jokes, though apparently a total arsehole. Father got so drunk they sailed with him and a cutter had to be sent out of L'pool to pick him up.
HMS Dumbarton Castle. Another party, they took the ship straight through a jetty out into the Mersey.
Japes :-)
Tommy Trinder was, of course, chairman of Fulham FC. And yes, completely unfunny.
"Father got so drunk they sailed with him and a cutter had to be sent out of L'pool to pick him up."
Good man, Elby Snr! Pink gins all round!
Messrs K Horne and K Williams were the funniest of the lot with the double entendres. They certainly don't write them like that any more.
@Mongoose
Quite so - my father an afficionado of the pink gin. He and my uncle were a couple of terrible tearaways - sadly, both to become alcoholics - but at their best huge fun. I would have been five, I think, when on Christmas Eve the old man brought the postie in for drink, and got him so pissed we did the rest of the round in our Morris Minor Traveller, trailing loo rolls out of both windows.
Irish. in both cases. Mum got over 200 letters from people afte the old man died. Handsome man as well - may get Lil to put up a picture of him
By my desk I have a box of the letters he wrote from India to mum. Classic wartime tale; married, off to war two days later and didn't see each other for another five years. The letters are very, very touching - they were so very, very much in love.
Mr Elby,
Well, catch girl, marry girl and then get packed off to war for five years will lend one a perspective on many aspects of life, I would have thought. Good for him. Indeed, for them both. And after five years of war service, a man should be allowed as many pink gins as he wants.
My old man, Irish too, drank reasonably heroic quantities of brandy but when advised to give it up, he did - and on the spot too. He was indeed less fun thereafter.
it's so true. regard for one's advertisers does tend to corrupt one's artistic integrity and to temper one's expressivity. hosting blog-advertising also provides the temptation of libelling someone just to make a few quid - the problem here being that a libel case could cause so much interest in one's site that the injured party might, in fact, look forward to a considerable payout from a previously penniless blogger. sadly i have not yet succeeded in upsetting anyone to this sort of degree.
It's just that the late Mr Hicks was right, Mr Spark-up, on any level that you examine his statement. von Fawkes and the rest of les droits nouvelle come up with all sorts of justification for advertisements but you know, yes, you do. I don't know if Tariq Ali and his chums take adverts but they do work in the mainstream; left or right, there's no business like showbusiness.
This has been a public service announcement from stanislavplumbcheap4u, the thinking man's anarcho-plumber. Let us quote you. Or better still, you quote us, innit.
16:18
fortunately for the daily politics, political satire ain't really art
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