Come Dine With Me

Come Dine with Me

This is how Come Dine with Me should be:

“So our first contestant is Jordan, from Barnsley. Tell us what you’ll be cooking Jordan.”

“My guest with be eating a bruised banana for starters, my main is guuna be beans on toast, and for desert I’ve managed to get my hands on some treacle sponge.”

“That’s sounds great Jordan, but I think your guests might be expecting a more cultured menu.”

“Ahh, no worries, I’ve figured it out. Obviously I’m gunna put a cheese slice on the beans and there is some custard in the fridge for the desert.

Now that would be much more entertaining than some middle aged wierdos letting randomers look through their cupboards before serving food with names like spells in Harry Potter.

          There’s always a token gay guy, a gobby woman, an arsehole and somebody who thinks he’s Tom Cruise. The gay guy can never cook, Tom cruise thinks he can, all the arsehole wants to talk about is politics and the mouthy bitch always takes massive offence at some comment that means nothing. What is this shit? How did it ever get on TV?

          Another thing, the winner (if you can call a massive loser a winner) gets £1,000. That’s it. Not that I am saying they’ve earned more than that, but a grand? Really? I mean I wouldn’t turn my nose up at 4 free dinners and a thousand pounds, but it just seems like such a pointless show to enter. Why wouldn’t they enter deal or no deal or something?

          I’ll tell you why, because on deal or no deal they don’t get to show off. And that’s what they want, just to show off. Because for some reason they think that being able to cook a mediocre grilled sea bass makes them the Queen of England.

          And they’re all bull shitters. They could have the most amazing night ever and they will never give higher than an 8. They will only ever give a 6,7,8 or in exceptional circumstances a 9. I would love to see my mates on that show. All these twats expecting a mushroom ravioli and chocolate fondant and they’d just get them a McDonalds.

“You WILL eat your big mac, and you’ll enjoy it. Cost me £4.99 that. Cheeky shit.”

The Apprentice

The Apprentice

On level with Big Brother in the list of worst shows on TV. Substitute Davina McCall for Sir Alan Sugar and those crazy tasks for selling bits of shit and it is really the same thing. They are both just popularity contests, with either the public or the suit wearing Del Boy.

          That is reason enough to despise the thing. But there is more. The way that the contestants brown nose Sugar is just revolting. After he tells them why there were shite on this week’s task, there’s always one stupid little toss pot that pipes up and tries to explain why he’s better than everybody else. They’re always trying to set themselves apart but really they just look like massive sycophantic wanker.

          And seen as “Sir Alan” is always trying to make himself seem like a “down to earth person”, I don’t see why he doesn’t just tell them straight.

Business Twat: “I believe I am the next big thing, Lord Sir Alan Sugar Daddy, Mwah.”

Sugar: “OH shut it you plonker! Sling your hook you tart!

Tell me that doesn’t sound like the best boardroom meeting ever?

          That’s the other thing: why does Sugar feel the need to act like Barry Big Arms every time the camera is on him? Always shouting and using cockney rhyming slang, as if we’re meant to believe he actually acts like that in his every-day life. He’s just a cockney that found a suit and thought that made him a millionaire. He’s mentally unstable, rare form of schizophrenia where he thinks he’s living another laugh.

          I have a theory on the Apprentice. I think that when it gets to about week 5 or 6 and the viewers are getting bored, they just slip more people in and pretend they’ve been there since the beginning. I cannot be the only one that has no idea who half of them are by the middle of the series?

          That’s the point really, we don’t care who they are. They’re all the same, we are all just waiting for the point when Nick jumps on the table, strips off and wings his cock around in Lord Sugar’s face before running through the glass doors behind. Meanwhile, Sugar is telling the project manager why he’s being fired, and as he points his finger at him, he has a heart attack. Sugar dies, and London taxi drivers everywhere weep.

Pretentious People

Pretentious People

Oh I’m sorry my good sir, I didn’t realise that you’re better than me because you read Shakespeare in your spare time and have a fancy car. Or that you only wear shirts with some kind of animal on its left hand boob. How silly of me. Tell you what, how about you sit down there and drink some early grey while I shine your shoes and recite your favourite poems in a jaunty accent.

          Fuck you and your “aftershave”. Pretentious people are easily the worst kind of people, beating paedophiles and terrorists by a mile. Obviously. There’s a reason for this. It’s a simple choice. People choose to be pretentious. It’s their fault and their fault only. It’s so easy to just be normal, but yet we still see bastards walking round, swinging their arms, like they’re the “big I am”.

          Why do this? Why do some human beings automatically assume they are better than other human beings? Why is that your default stance? What has gone wrong in your head to make you think that you have the right to judge people at will? Because I’ll tell you something for nothing, you’re almost always no different from the people you’re judging.

          You’ve got your faults too dick head. Just because people don’t feel the need to constantly compare themselves to you doesn’t mean you’re invincible. And to be brutally honest, it’s most likely the fact that you’re pretentious that makes you a worse al round person than the average Brit. Whatever tastes you have adopted because of your “I am all-mighty” stance on life, I bet you don’t really care for at all. We all know you’re a normal kid really. You don’t have to try so hard to adopt a “style” or “look” or whatever it is you’re trying to do. We don’t all meet up in the pub later and go: “Jesus, did you hear that kid earlier talking about existentialism in Kierkegaard’s Paradox? He is a genius isn’t he” It doesn’t happen.

          We go: “How much can somebody try and show off in one lesson.” No fucking need kid. No fucking need. It drives us normal people up the bend.

          And a lot of the time, it’s harmless. There’s these flashy kids that want to show off and make themselves feel good by putting “ism” on the end of everything, and they are ignorable and it’s fine. But occasionally, just occasionally, there comes along a first class slice of wanker that brags about shit he probably hasn’t even done. And it’s the sanity stretching experience of one’s life. Put that in your fucking “pocket diaries”.

Attention Whores

Attention Whores

We all know the girl, who cakes herself in make-up and puts shit loads of half-naked photos of herself on Facebook. We all know the girl that’ll go out and snog any guy that gives her 5 minutes of chat. We all know the girl that is so desperate to get attention and love she will literally do anything to get as much of it as possible. And we all know that if there was any justice in this world we would be able to tell that attention whore to fuck right off without feeling terrible about it. But it isn’t like that.

          You can’t turn round to the dickhead who thinks he’s “Facebook famous” (whatever the fuck that means.) and tell them to do on from existence. Because then you’re the bad guy. Who are these fucking freaks anyway that make profiles of themselves on Facebook and somehow get shit loads of people to subscribe to them? Just post a picture every other day of some cuts on their arm and be like: “Oooooooo poor old me. People pick on me because I’m different.” No, dick weed, people pick on you because you’re a bell end. I’m not shouting at anyone in particular here, let’s call them….. Make JcManus, for example. If you walk round in a fucking fur coat, make up, high heels and nose piercings, you are going to get called all sorts of things. And don’t pretend you were stupid enough to think any different. You knew for a fact that the dick heads on the street were gunna shout things at you. That’s exactly what you wanted. I’m on to you, you attention whoring shit stain.

          And who’s listening to what these people have to say? Who gives a tuppenny fuck about what these people’s views on society are? Do you not realise these guys are fucking stupid? So stupid to think they’re fucking celebrities for uploading shit 2 minute videos on a social media site.

          And the phrase “Facebook famous” doesn’t make sense. You’re either famous or you’re not. You can’t confine the definition of famous to a finite area, it voids the meaning anyway. If you can do it, Hanielle Dunt, then so can I. I’m “Home famous”. I am ridiculously famous in my home. Every time I walk in there’s a red carpet laid out for me, I have security constantly following me round, I need to hire my own personal car to take me downstairs when I have my dinner and just the other day I was sat in my room and a groupie tried to force her way through my window. She had “I love you JORDAN” tattooed on her tits. You what? That’s sounds ridiculous. Yes it does, “Facebook famous” dickhead, yes-it-does.

Bad Adverts

Bad Adverts

Bad adverts are arguably the worst, and at the same time the best thing’s to ever be broadcast. Some of the ludicrous images projected onto our screens to “trick” us into buying the new Coco Chanel perfume are, literally, comedy gold. That might be their angle you know. A bunch of sweaty men sat in a board room somewhere in London: “Oi Dave! Dave! Yeh we need a new advert mate. No we’ve used good looking people shagging on a boat. No we’ve used a lion roaring at the sun. No we’ve used the Marilyn Monroe look-a-like.

“You what? Woman walking through a make believe forest, climbing up a mountain of apples and then pulling our perfume from the branch of a tree, as if it was growing there? Hmm… Yeh that’ll do it.”

          Who comes up with this shit, seriously? Failed film school graduates? Media degree drop outs? Mental patients? It’s ridiculous. You’d have thought by this point in the social evolution of the human being, we all would have realised as a species that these adverts don’t work. The thing is as well, it’s always a foreign voice over on these perfume adverts. When did that become the standard? I’m waiting for the patriotic British aftershave: The new scent from Bill Churchill, “Bulldog”. The advert would just be a cockney geezer standing up in a pub, going: “You wat you facking mug?” and throwing some scouse feller over the bar. Slogan: “Sort it arrrrrt.”

          Adverts shouldn’t take themselves too seriously. It backfires when they do and gives us a negative perception of the brand. Or if they try to be funny but get it completely wrong and come out with some cringe worthy 30 second drought of laughs like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4QvWD4haQ0, it is just as bad. The “go compare” adverts are a prime example of this. If anybody has needed insurance and has instantly gone to gocompare.com I’d like them to come forward. Nobody wants to go to a site promoted by some over-weight Italian. Literally makes me want to stay away from that fuck up of a site, as well as killing Gio Compario. And I know recently they’ve tried to make it ironic by making it clear they know he’s annoying, but it’s gone too far. They can get Stuart Pearce to kick a football at the fat shit (NOT LIKE HE COULD MISS! HAHA! How funny was that?) or get Steven Hawking to suck him into a black hole (I’m still nonplussed as to how they got the greatest mind of the 20^th century to team up with the most useless mind of the 20^th century, but whatever), but it’s too late now.   

          We need to start an online petition to destroy all bad adverts. If a company releases a bad advert, they should be instantly liquidated, or at least the marketing department. Mind you, if that was the case we’d go through more “fragrances” in a year than Pete Doherty on a night out. He always starts with “Stale Piss”, gradually moves on to “Greasy Kebab” and nearly always sleeps in “Vomit”. Adverts should make you smile. Adverts should make you want to see your friends. Adverts, should be like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ve4M4UsJQo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owGykVbfgUE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnzFRV1LwIo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UBLnDXiFRM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y4AvLnt3P6Q

Offense Takers

Offense Takers

Probably should have done this one first, to shield off all the shit heads. By offense takers, I literally mean: people who take offense. To anything. Anything. I don’t care what it is that has been said, any person that takes offense and gets upset by anything said or done by another human being needs to re-evaluate themselves.

          My point being, why are you actually being upset by whatever it is that’s being said? Nobody can honestly say they don’t know why they get upset about something. Either, the statement or action makes you sad or angry. Both are not logical. Example: somebody calls you a name. I don’t know, spunk bubble or something. And that gets you upset. Why should it get you upset? One: It’s only a word. It’s no different to them, calling you an orange. So stop fucking making a big deal about it. In the case of spunk bubble, you should be laughing at them for being so shit at insulting people.

          It’s all about honesty really. If you are honest with yourself, it’s really difficult for anyone to offend you in any way. If your fat (which by the way is not an insult, it’s just a state of body mass.) and you look at yourself and know your fat, then other people calling you fat shouldn’t come as a surprise. Therefore not “hurting you feelings”. However, these people that stand in-front of the mirror, and are clearly fat, lie to themselves, and then carry on eating four McDonalds a day are obviously going to be upset when some jock calls them a killer whale. And it’s their own fault. I know a person (not naming names and that) who has been informed that their child is obese. And they’re like: “Oh these doctors don’t know what they’re talking about. He’s naturally big boned. If they saw what he ate they wouldn’t think he was obese.”

The kid is 8, and he is bigger than me.

I shit you not.

These are the people that get offended by something as stupid as being called fat. Idiots.  The other side of taking offense is if you are angered by a statement or action. This is easily dealt with. How can something somebody says honestly make you that angry? Think about it, the most there comment means is that they have an opinion. And so fucking what? They don’t like your hat? So? You shouldn’t give a shit. What difference does it make if somebody doesn’t like your hat? Unless you’re dressing to impress them specifically. In that case: You clearly don’t understand that person’s taste, so you should probably target somebody you know a little better,  and it serves you right for being so desperate to impress somebody you’d wear something out of your ordinary taste.

          The world would be a better place if people just faced up to themselves and stopped taking unnecessary offense at stupid comments. We’d all be happier. And rap battles wouldn’t exist. COME ON PEOPLE! WE CAN IRRADICATE RAP BATTLING FROM EXISTENCE. Why would you pass that up.

The Crowd

The Crowd

I’ve got a feeling this will be a pretty popular one. We all hate the crowd. If you don’t know what the crowd is, then you’re in the crowd and will you please get the fuck off this page. The crowd is everything wrong with society today. It’s ruining youth and tarring all adolescence with the same brush. And before I get any shit for it, the crowd is not the same as a trend. You can dress how you like. You can wear the same stuff as the Paramore band if you like (and want to look like a twat). Go for it, just don’t start acting like everyone else are a set of fucktards for wearing other things.

          One Direction are the best example I can give really. We all know they don’t deserve to be as big as they are. In my opinion, anyone that doesn’t write their own songs shouldn’t earn a penny from music. But that’s the world we live in. That’s the crowd. A few little fan boys (or girls) start going mental over the new “boy band” and it spreads like wild fire. It’s disgusting. One Direction, at the moment, are worth around about £26 million. What the fuck planet Earth? Where the fuck was I when that happened? How the hell have we let them accumulate wealth like that? Honestly, that’s not rhetorical, I want an answer. It’s like I fell asleep and Harry Styles robbed a few banks or something. Not with a gun, he just threatened to fuck their hair up as much as he has done his own. “Gimme the moolah! Unless you want to look like Edward Scissor hands when he puts his fingers in a socket.”

          In fairness, the One Direction cultists aren’t the worst section of the crowd. It’s the sport fanatics that are the worst. They’re like the front line of the crowd. The pretentious, steroid popping, gym worshipping wankers that are deluded enough to think that playing football makes them the dogs bollocks are the worst people in the world. They stare at you, in their football gear (because they never take it off. It’s like a curse. They have to constantly wear shorts and football socks. Little known fact.) and think: “Yeh, I’m probably better than you.” You can tell by the way they look at you. They stand there, judging you, as if any of us give a shit that they go to DW sports gym twice a day. Guess what pal, you’re a bell end. Just because you’ve subscribed to a “brand of person” doesn’t mean we all want to be you. In all honesty mate, I’m fucking grateful I’m not you. Because I wouldn't have proper friends, just fellow dick heads that I kick a ball around with. Wankers.

To summarise: Fuck the crowd, most of them are idiots. And fuck Justin Bieber too. He’s a dick.