Fear and Folklore

M.I.A. – Paper Planes

2008-10-15T12:07:00.003+01:00

Sampling The Clash’s “Straight From Hell”, M.I.A. continues where The Clash left off with themes of racism and problems of discrimination that immigrants face. Paper Planes lays out a saccharin diatribe at the doorstep of the USA, with references to the fact that the USA wouldn’t allow her in to the country to work with Timbaland, due to her alleged connections with a Sri Lankan militant group. The single has already had several different versions and remixes released this year, but this is the definitive commercial radio airplay version. The chorus features the sounds of gunshots and the “Kerching!” of cash registers, backed up by a choir of Brixton school kids chanting that they want to “take your money”, ironically taking a pop at the authorities. The song basically plays upon the paranoia created by the USA and the UK in which all citizens should treat every immigrant with suspicion and contempt. Regardless of her past, the meaning of the lyrics and any alleged connections she has to any terrorist/militant groups, the song has now become a pastiche of what was originally intended. Punk in spirit, Pink in delivery.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Sia – Soon We’ll Be Found

2008-10-15T12:05:00.003+01:00

There was a time when a female with a lethargic vocal delivery was quite sexy, but in these post-Winehouse days, it just tends to stop being sexy and start sounding as if the singer is pissed, or out of their heads on scag. Sia’s vocal starts off as lethargic, but then moves on to a mighty slur, like an octogenarian sitting by himself, mortal drunk, musing about his days of sex and hedonism through the haze of ten pints of Scotch. The Sex And The City generation of females may well take time out from buying shoes and handbags to weep salty puddles to this song, as it blares out from their status symbol stereos and they look back upon the greatest love that they lost. It’s that type of song, you know? The type that closes a romantic comedy starring the latest teenage star destined to be photographed knickerless whilst leaving a Limo. The type of song that 18-19 year old girls have on their MySpace profile. The type who have the obligatory profile picture of the pouting mirror shot, of one hand on the side, and the other hand desperately clutching the mobile phone which encapsulates the desperation of the reflection. On further inspection she’ll have wrote things on her profile like “life’s a journey, not a destination” and her friends will have posted messages saying “dnt wory bout him, he a dick, ya can do beta than him” and “u deserv beta babie girl” as she moves off from the first of many points in her life when her heart will be broken. It’s one of them, it may well have a lot of truth, honesty and passion, but when you get to such a point in your life when all you have left is bitterness and cynicism, it tends not to cut the mustard. Instead, it leaves you agitated and exasperated. By now we’ve all had our fair share of female fronted piano ballads giving way to strings, big emotional key changes and climaxes, the formula is a little tired now and love songs just aren’t my bag.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

The Breeders – Bang On

2008-10-15T12:03:00.002+01:00

Recently Weezer produced one of my favourite drum sounds of the year, but now The Breeders, with Steve Albini at the controls rotating the knobs, have managed to surpass it.

Bang On is a lo-fi sugar rush with a rhythm section made from a thumping drum, and a bass guitar seemingly being pounded through a tired out 80s speaker which is just about to fall to bits. This unassuming affair by our favourite ever changing line up is a discreet two minute skeleton of a song, stripped right down to the bare bones, sending out the rallying cry of a pre-pubescent apathetic voice with “I love no-one and no-one loves me”. It’s a bit like a juvenile My Sharona, except with only an occasional guitar twang, and a bit of guitar twiddling that sounds like a swarm of bees coming to capture you for their queen. Great work from Kim and co.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Biffy Clyro – Mountains

2008-10-15T12:02:00.005+01:00

Metaphorical nonsense is the order of the day in this one-off single from Biffy Clyro. The song has been receiving a large amount of airplay recently as it seems that they’re now experiencing the full power and marketing skills of a major label, taking their music to the masses. As would be expected from a band that has been working with a major record label, the band now have an expensively produced sound to their new single, they’ve even incorporated a piano throughout the song. Without using the phrases “selling out”, or “commercial shite”, it’s probably quite reasonable to say that they've totally lost their edge and have started to sound like Feeder. Although they get props for the production, for the melody and for the hooks, their point score goes into negative figures with some truly dire lyrics. As mentioned above, metaphor overload is on the menu. Simon Neil is the mountains and the sea, he starts off by taking “a bite out of a mountain range, thought my teeth would break the mountains down”, and he also writes a note to the jungle (?!?), with the jungles response being, “it wrote me back that I was never crowned king of the jungle, so there’s and end to my horizon”. Seriously, is there any need for such ghastly lyrics? And so it continues, with more lyrical cliché with, “Nothing lasts forever, except you and me. You are my mountains, you are my sea”. I’ve never been so offended by something like this in such a long time. As Biffy Clyro undoubtedly gain hoards of new fans from drab office environments tuning into commercial radio up and down the country, I can’t help but cringe when I see Margaret the 43 year old admin dullard singing along to “I am a mountain, I am the sea”. Biffy Clyro could well be the next Stereophonics, and that is certainly no good thing.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

The Music – The Spike

2008-10-15T12:01:00.002+01:00

The Music’s second single from their Strength In Numbers album continues along the same sort of “also ran” trajectory that The Music have adopted since their first album, which seems like a lifetime ago. The Spike is a decent enough song, even if it does trudge through the same godforsaken territory of Kasabian through the verses, only to be uplifted with a “let’s get off our tits” chorus in the usual adolescent and juvenile groove you’d expect from The Music. But that’s the whole point; it’s six years since they released their baggy dance rocking self titled debut, and they haven’t really come much further since then. If adding a little bit of electronica into the mix is a gauge of maturity, then fair play, but in truth they haven’t seemed to progress any further than exactly what you’d expect from The Music. As lead singer Harvey recounts the dark days off his past drug use you’d think he’d be better off just telling it all to his sponsor, the notion of rockstar heroes writing anthems about the pro’s and con’s of drug abuse seem a little blasé to me nowadays. Although for the most part this single is as predictable and conventional as a film about basketball where the protagonists need to score with one second left on the clock, it’s for its sins still bearable. There’s a lot worse out there, but it’s hardly neither groundbreaking nor inspiring.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Eugene McGuinness - Eugene McGuinness

2008-10-15T11:56:00.007+01:00

I was praying that this album wouldn’t be another middle of the road James Morrison type, but Mr McGuinness couldn’t be any further removed from the dull tones of Blunt, Morrison and those of that ilk. This self titled album from the Liverpool youngster marks new territory for the singer songwriter genre, with experimental arrangements akin to the great Brian Wilson and dozens of different ideas flying off the walls in each song. Following on from last year’s Early Learning Of Eugene McGuinness EP, McGuinness takes giant strides into cementing his place amongst great new British talent.

The album represents a fantastic storytelling Vaudevillian journey through modern day streets and fun fairs, with creepy organs from ghost trains to blistering rockabilly, skiffle and rampant folk. McGuinness is a bit like Patrick Wolf with a personality transplant and with lyrical wit increased by ten. His social banter forms the basis of the album with Crown The Crown’s “from Romford to Iraq, and I can spot a hell of a lot of stars on McDonalds caps” and even moments of self deprecation with “I’m a fucked up bastard and a sub zero psycho” in the violin led Wendy Wonders.

As far as debut albums go, this is by far one of the best I’ve heard in many years and shows much promise for the future of music in this country.

5/5

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Okkervil River - The Stand Ins

2008-10-15T11:54:00.004+01:00

The Stand Ins follows on from last years The Stage Names as a continuation of the themes of fame, fortune and celebrity. The artwork from this latest album actually joins up with the artwork of The Stage Names to show one larger piece of art. Where The Stage Names concentrated on the stars of the shows, The Stand Ins spares a thought for the also-rans and those who fell by the wayside with a certain amount of pathos, including the suicide of a porn star (Starry Stairs) and the tragedy of a glam rock star dying of AIDS (Bruce Wayne Campbell Interviewed On The Roof Of The Chelsea Hotel, 1979).

Singer Songwriter focuses on the life of a person whose whole family is involved in show business and shows the fallacies and fraudulent side of fame, whilst the grim and lonely On Tour With Zykos wallows in a brooding loss of hope. Pop Lie is a more upbeat song, with a tongue-in-cheek look at musicians and the pretence of songwriters thinking that they can change the world with their songs.

Throughout, Will Sheff and his Okkervil band mates, produce a dark and bitter perspective on the other side of stardom, for those who tried to make it and failed and for those who had it all and lost it. This is a superb album which will garner even larger crowds for this band.

4.5/5

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Our Broken Garden - When Your Blackening Shows

2008-10-15T11:52:00.004+01:00

Our Broken Garden is Anna Broendsted, sometime member of Efterklang, who follows up her celebrated Sailor EP with this album released through Bella Union. It’s an album full of sweeping, organic arrangements, recalling Cat Power from years back and a minimalism often associated with Scandinavian folk.

Broendsted’s voice and composition evokes a sense of isolationism and vulnerability which really does stir you up, but the whole album can be a little bit too much for one listen. I could happily listen on a Sunday morning with a pounding head, but putting the album on when you’re having a house party on a Friday night would be certain to see your guests either going on a serious downer or heading for the door.

The subdued sound that has been created on this album is perfect if you like your music to have some real sincerity about it. Broenstead’s vocal complements the subtleties of the music to deliver well-rounded and polished songs. Maybe spread across a couple of EPs, this would have been complete perfection, but a full album can become quite overbearing towards the end, leaving you with a tremendous amount of doom and self doubt in your soul, but maybe that’s what Broendsted is aiming for. The fragile delivery and foreboding feeling that tears are coming soon runs throughout this album. All in all an emotive piece that takes you very close to the edge.

4/5

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

James Yorkston - When The Haar Rolls In

2008-10-15T11:49:00.003+01:00

A fourth studio album from James Yorkston sees him enlist his usual band of Athletes, as well as some folk legends in Norma Waterson, Mike Waterson, Marry Gilhooly and Olly Knight, to produce a folk album of epic proportions.

Strumming away on his guitar, I can almost smell the salty air wafting across my fish and chips and feel the coldness of my rock pool soaked socks. As with any traditional/folk style record, the music is as wholesome and honourable as a North East fishing community. The themes of the record echo throughout with a sense of belonging, being young and homely and not having a care in the world – this sort of freedom transfers to the music, with the songs being honest and ethereal, and a song writing style that doesn’t seem to be bound by any particular rules or criteria.

With every incidental violin, mandolin and concertina, I’m transported to the murky seaside town where the fog (or ‘Haar’) rolls in from the sea. This is atmospheric and creative folk that places this Yorkston album above any of his previous recordings, showing that he has evolved as something more than just your bog-standard folk singer into a great British songwriter.

4/5

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Jaguar Love - Take Me To The Sea

2008-10-15T11:47:00.004+01:00

Jaguar Love are made up from ex-members of Blood Brothers and Pretty Girls Make Graves, and they’ve produced an album that comes at you from all angles in what is a painful battering. It’s an awful album of grating sounds, probably about as awful as how I’ll feel when it’s my funeral and I’m watching all the frauds and professional mourners turn up to eat the pork pie halves, whilst my loved ones are left with the breadsticks. At times the vocals sound like Marc Bolan after he’s binged on blue Smarties and Ribena, and they seem unable to pin down their sound, instead doing a bit of glam/art punk/avant-garde/bad metal and not really doing any of them well. The lack of melody is only reinforced with the nails down blackboard vocals which make most of the songs on the album unbearable after a minute or so. Lead singer Johnny Whitney manages to somehow encapsulate the worst qualities of the sounds of a whining child, a yappy dog and breaking glass to form some sort of vocal scalpel that jabs at your ear repeatedly until you have to switch off. There’s just far too much going on for me and none of it is very enjoyable, from the mid-90’s alternative sound of Highways of Gold, to the Iron Maiden-esque intro of Vagabond Ballroom and the 80’s pop vibe of My Organ Sounds Like..., Jaguar Love seem to be very confused about what they are meant to sound like. It’s not good.

0.5/5

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Noah And The Whale - Peaceful, The World Lays Me Down

2008-10-15T11:42:00.003+01:00

When people mention ‘twee’, I usually frown, shudder, and think of herbal tea drinking twats, in garish cardigans and wellingtons knitting scarves and mittens. But Noah And The Whale have given me a whole new perspective on this. The album isn't so much ‘twee’ in the sense that they're a bunch of scarf knitting twats, but more in the sense that at times there's a lot of happiness, pleasantness and buoyancy in the tunes, but the difference is that below it all is a dark anti-folk undercurrent, with many of the unhappier songs dealing with death and unrequited love. Basically, it's not all bunnies and fucking toffee apples, it's more like a twee Arcade Fire, with the clever lyric and intelligent punnery of Bright Eyes. I love songwriters who can not only write the most basic and catchiest of choruses, but also a writer who can spend forever ripping up scraps of A4 until they have the perfect one liners for their stanza's. And that's what's going on here. The lyrics have so much meaning, they've clearly had so much thought go into them, with 5 Years Time being the type of earnest love song in the spirit of Peter, Bjorn And John’s Young Folk, which would be a massive summer hit in an alternate universe. Some of the initial twee-ness may put you off, but they write and perform desperately profound indie-pop which can’t help but make you smile and marvel at the whimsical wordplay.

4.5/5

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

The Hold Steady – Stay Positive

2008-07-24T11:51:00.004+01:00

Here we have a new album of anthemic rock from American riff-meisters, The Hold Steady, which is more than pleasant and a change in direction from the previous efforts. I’ll get the comparisons out of the way immediately, it’s like Bob Mould fronting the E Street Band, songwriting akin to Springsteen, and the strangest ones I’ve picked up are the commercial sing-along pop and dual vocals of Rancid, and a certain feeling of 90s alternative rock a bit like Soul Asylum’s Grave Dancers Union. It’s no real surprise that you’ll find comparisons with Husker Du and Soul Asylum when you look at The Hold Steady’s Minneapolis connections, you could even compare the Purple Rain-esque guitar solo in Joke About Jamaica to Minneapolis’ most famous son, Prince.

The album only has two weak songs for me, those being One For The Cutters and Navy Sheets, everything else is great. Overblown pantomime piano and gruff enunciation are at the forefront as always, with social commentary on opening track, Constructive Summer and religious imagery with Both Crosses, whilst the album’s title track is raw out-and-out power-punk. As well as the usual influences scattered around, one of my favourite bits is the Elvis Costello style organ that crops up here and there.

This is an album full of potential summer hymns and anthems to harmonise along to in festivals all over the country. There are enough hooks and big choruses to get you jumping around and if you can’t remember the lyrics, there’s plenty of “woah-oh-ohs” for you to chant as well.

4/5

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Fight Like Apes – Lend Me Your Face

2008-07-24T11:47:00.003+01:00

Lend Me Your Face is the first UK single from the new Fight Like Apes album. What struck me immediately about this one minute and fifty three seconds ditty is that the song title, Lend Me Your Face, is repeated twenty five times. That wouldn’t usually bother me, but when it gets to the point that it feels as if somebody is standing trying to drill a giant hole into the side of my head whilst shouting “Lend Me Your Face! Lend Me Your Face! Lend Me Your Face!”, then it does start to get irritating. I’m sitting writing this with an appalling hangover, which may account for the irritability factor here, but in all seriousness I could be in the most tranquil, placid and healthy of spirits and this, “Lend Me Your Face! Lend Me Your Face! Lend Me Your Face!” over and over again would still drive me to a horrifically heinous crime. I can imagine the phrase taking over my life, and when I’m standing accused in the dock I’m sure I’ll be able to get an insanity plea as I stand in my paper suit screaming, “Lend Me Your Face! Lend Me Your Face! Lend Me Your Face!”, over and over again at the judge and jury.

This is basically shouty obnoxious pop, in the vein of a sleazier unpolished Ting Tings. With synth overload and aggressive drumming, the Dublin band do have the basis of a good tune, but that is completely negated by the overwhelming urge to kill myself which is brought on by the monotony of “Lend Me Your Face! Lend Me Your Face! Lend Me Your Face!”. The sneering, vicious feminist lyrics aren’t my bag and probably have more in common with Valerie Singleton than Valerie Solanas. All in all a decent tune ruined by pointless repetition and annoying un-catchy vocals.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

White Denim – All You Really Have To Do

2008-07-24T11:46:00.005+01:00

White Denim are the type of band that should have been strutting around the stage of Woodstock in 1969. Amongst the showers of bands these days that try to purvey their own brand of revivalist psychedelia and get full of acid, White Denim go straight for the throat with a harder approach to the tired old format of the American singer drawling through their fucked out of their head lyrics with a faint British accent. All You Really Have To Do parades around with a vocal halfway between Robert Plant and Jimi Hendrix, with a dirty filthy garage guitar and a sexual bass line. The song is a vicious attack of pop goodness, with the sound no doubt being influenced by the heavier of the blues and prog bands from the 60’s, think Jagger or Plant in their prime fronting Blue Cheer, or Hendrix playing with Captain Beefheart. In the space of two and a bit minutes, this song will tear your heart out and bash it around the town with the back of a guitar. A fantastic single, bursting with aggression, and dying to take you on a dark drug induced journey where burning tie-dye T-shirts covered in blood light the way.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Edwyn Collins – Home Again

2008-07-24T11:44:00.002+01:00

This single, the title track from last year’s well received album, almost may never have made it out as a single – and that would’ve been a massive crime. When I think of Edwyn Collins and his near death experience, I can’t help feeling all sentimental for him and it gives you a little sense of perspective whereby you realise you should really be treasuring such people, rather than just being passé about somebody who wrote the soundtrack to many of your parties, break ups and break downs.

In the same vein as Richard Hawley, Mr Collins shows what an amazing wealth of singer songwriter talent we have in this country. Who needs all of the fashion bands in loud luminous leggings and Flock of Seagulls haircuts, when you’ve got songwriters like this producing some of the most sincere and heartfelt songs this side of the 60’s.

The single tells the tale of discovering and rediscovering the music of his youth and reflecting on where he grew up, something which will resonate with anyone who ever hears a song from their childhood and gets transported all the way back to feeling like a kid all over again. When you think about what he’s been through over the past few years, the song seems even more poignant and heart-rending, and even if he’s not looking for your sympathy, it's impossible to listen to this single without a sense of compassion and relief that one of the greatest British songwriters of the past 30 years is still with us.

Home Again will make you swoon, maybe cry, and maybe even make you want to get in touch with some of the people you take for granted or that you’ve never heard from in ages, fantastic stuff.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

Electricity In Our Homes – We Thought It Was But It Wasn’t

2008-07-24T11:39:00.005+01:00

This is about as chaotic and disjointed as anything else that is out there at the moment. Just over a minute and a half of dirty, filthy art-rock. In the space of that just over a minute and a half, you’ll be subjected to the sneering and vocal aggression of an amalgamation of Johnny Rotten and Mark E. Smith, a frenzied assault of anarchic guitar lines like Zappa fronting Melt Banana, and a rhythm section that could’ve been taken from one of Ian Dury and the Blockheads’ lost singles, with the machine gun drums and humpy thumpy bass determined to march down your street, kick your door in and drag you dancing down your path in an impulsive paroxysm of glee.

The band have a distinctively 80s sound about them, which is no bad thing. I‘d much rather be sitting like a kid in my Lord Anthony anorak with a bag of glue listening to this band of rag-tag rogues in some graffiti covered squat, than face the reality of getting older and older.

Go and lose yourself in this single and hear a band expressing all of their insecurities and not giving a shit about it.

NARC. is currently available in all good record shops, pubs, practice rooms etc. etc. View more information on NARC. magazine, including outlets, at their MySpace, and at their website.

My Disappearance

2008-07-24T11:35:00.002+01:00

I got bored stiff of having to watch the troglodytes every single day with a pen and pad of paper, taking notes on the bullshit and backstabbing, so I stopped doing the Big Brother blog.

I'm in the middle of trying to write a book now, although in all honesty, I'm actually right at the beginning. For the time being, I'm going to update this place with all of the stuff I've been reviewing the past few weeks.

Cunning Stunt

2008-06-22T09:26:00.003+01:00

The entrance of Stuart has had the desired effect on the house, as predicted earlier. Already, Dale has been getting paranoid about having to go up against him for Jennifer's affection, and has been clinging on to his testicles as hard as possible and crying about how much he loves her - sad bastard. Meanwhile, Stuart (having been warned by Sylvia) has picked up on Mohamed and Rex's paranoia about him, and has the full intention of winding them up a bit.

It's became clear within the first 24 hours of his entrance, that Sylvia and Dennis do actually know the new weird eye cunt. Sylvia was caught talking to Jennifer saying "I'm in trouble" and saying she'll not be able to help herself. It's already clear that Stuart, Sylvia and Dennis know each other from the selection process, but they aren't allowed to discuss that. But, what I found out last night, is that they don't just go through the auditions, they also put groups of people in test houses together, film them and see how they react. It's quite clear by Sylvia's bed hopping that she's been with Stuart before. I've got a good feeling that he's fucked her already and now her boyfriend's going to find out. Her bed behaviour was a little too blatant and familiar, but he didn't seem to want to know, as if he's already emptied his sack in her and doesn't want any seconds.

Keep an eye on this one, as they'll definitely have a bit more action when the drink starts flowing. Clearly they have previous history.

Enter Stuart

2008-06-21T09:36:00.003+01:00

A new housemate entered the house last night and replaced the cunt. He's called Stuart, he's an arrogant model and father of a small girl. He's everything that Dale has promised to be, but failed to be.

There's no two ways about it, this cat is going to be doing some humping. As soon as he walked in the door, Dale the Alpha male started cocking his leg and pissing all over the furniture to mark his territory as the new predator, who permanently looks like he's wearing mascara the weird eye cunt, surveyed the room stealthily, looking for flange and flesh.

Jennifer and Sylvia's eyes lit up like Belisha beacons and suddenly became moist. Jennifer realising that Dale is too much of a girls blouse and she wants a real man to treat her like shit, use her and violate her, whilst Sylvia soon forgot all about her "I've got a boyfriend, innit" bullshit and quickly gave Stuart a tour of the room, complete with nervous dancing and smiling.

Dennis thought his luck may well be in, thinking he was going to get some ass action, patrolling around Stuart like a vulture, getting ready to pick at his bones and go in for the kill. But regrettably for Dennis, Stuart likes to be asked if he is gay but doesn't love the cock.

It's fair to say that love rat Stuart has caused a bit of a stir. No two ways about it, the male side of the house will have a few problems with him coming in and getting all of the female attention. Whilst the women will compete for his attention. Clearly Jennifer has to decide on the choice of pissing around with Dale or getting some Stuart action, but in all fairness I think she's had her fun with Dale now, in the same way that a cat plays around with a dead bird. That's what you are, Dale. You're a dead fucking bird. You're a tiny little decapitated sparrow with your chest removed. Dale's behaviour will now get even more pathetic now as he tries to claim Jennifer for his own, metaphorically pulling at her pigtails, and making himself even more of a sad and pathetic loser.

It'll be interesting to see if there's any conflict between Sylvia and Jennifer now, as they both blatantly want cock. However, Sylvia has a boyfriend, which she was so adamant to point out when avoiding Mohamed the shoe bomber's advances. And Jennifer is already sort of with Dale, as far as Sylvia can see. So will they fight over him, or will they just have a threesome?

Either way, Stuart is just the type of cad that the house needs to stir things up. I hate him already, which is brilliant. Give it a week and he'll have Sylvia or Jennifer bent over the ashtray with their knickers pulled to the side, whilst Dennis pulls himself off in the jail, just wait and see.

Pop a Cap In Yo' White Ass

2008-06-19T10:02:00.006+01:00

Below is a transcript from the conversation that cunt had with Darnell, which resulted in her removal from the Big Brother house:

" Darnell: Sylvia is keeping it real, said if it had been me, I'd have thrown water over somebody.

Alex: I'm not throwing water at anyone. It's bigger than that. This is three months, do you know what I mean? Three months in a house.

Everyone's got to come outside the house. Personal offence is never forgotten, do you know what I mean? We're just inside the house.

I've got a very, very, very, very, very strong team outside the house, strong, so solid, strong. I look forward to whatever the result.

If I get out first, I get out, make the plans. Everyone's got to come out after that. Every single one of you come out afterwards, remember I told you. Like I say, my team is strong, so strong.

Alex: I just can't wait to see my mans [sic] and them and see what their plans are, who they got...I'm not talking about those mans, I'm talking about my gangster friends.

Darnell: Collabos.

Alex: They got some instructions to follow out.

Darnell: That's what I mean...I've never seen anything like this, the people in here aren't real. It's like that movie shit, like movie people in here.

Alex: If you go, you get to make all the plans that you wanna make. When you're in here you can't do certain things. In my life I'm used to doing certain things.

You know people piss me off and I do something, like. I can't actually do that while I'm here. But like I say, I get to go out, see everyone's friends, I get to see their family. I get to do the shit that I wanna do. Pow, pow, pow." "

Taken from http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/7462935.stm

Threatening to get people shot because they voted her out is quality like. What a horrible delusional cunt. How very "Muslim" of you. After giving Mohamed a world of shit for dressing as a woman for his birthday, it still amazes me how she considers herself to be a good Muslim. Drinking, smoking, swearing, bullying, violent threats, spitting a kid out when you're 15, I'm sure these are all admirable qualities and you're serving your Muslim community so very well. You horrible fucking trench.

The Cunt Is Gone

2008-06-18T21:12:00.003+01:00

Alex "The Cunt" De-Gale has been removed from the house for repeatedly breaking rules on conduct and behaviour after yet another argument with a housemate.

Let's hope that she doesn't get to make a single penny out of the experience, the horrible vile cunt.

The official Big Brother website reports:

" Contestant Alexandra De-Gale has been removed from the Big Brother House for repeatedly breaking the programme's rules on conduct by behaving in an unacceptable and sometimes intimidating manner towards fellow housemates.

Alex was in discussion with Darnell in the living room shortly after 10.15pm yesterday evening (17th June), with a number of other housemates in proximity.

Discussing her nomination for this week's eviction, Alex was heard to make apparently intimidatory comments about her intentions on leaving the House. Shortly afterwards, Dennis, Rebecca and Rex discussed her comments in the garden and were clear that they found her behaviour to be threatening, a view that Rex repeated subsequently during a Diary Room discussion with Big Brother.

This incident follows a series of arguments involving Alex since the ninth series of Big Brother started on 5th June. She has twice been called to the diary room and reminded of the rules governing behaviour towards other housemates.

There has been a strong negative reaction from viewers to Alex's behaviour with Channel 4 having received a significant number of comments since launch.

Her latest remarks were not screened via the 'as live' streaming on E4 but were reported up to senior production staff. In consultation with executives at Channel 4 the decision was taken to remove Alex from the house on the grounds that she had repeatedly broken the programme's rules governing housemate behaviour, despite twice being reminded of her responsibilities.

Alex was called to the Diary Room at approximately 6pm on Wednesday 18th June to be informed of the decision and was removed from the House without further contact with other contestants. The remaining housemates were informed of Big Brother's decision at approximately 8pm.

Alex was one of two housemates nominated for eviction this week and as a result, in line with the terms and conditions covering phone voting on Big Brother, the latest eviction vote has been suspended.

Angela Jain, Head of E4 and Big Brother at Channel 4, said: "Alex has said her comments were not intended seriously and has apologised, but those comments will be widely interpreted as having been intended to intimidate. Big Brother has very clear rules about housemates conduct and that kind of behaviour is simply not acceptable.

Other housemates have said they found her comments to be threatening and we believe that is a reasonable conclusion for them to have reached given the way Alex has behaved previously. She had already been spoken to twice about her behaviour and, like all housemates, was clearly informed before entering the house that she faced eviction if she acted in an unacceptable manner." "

Taken from here.

Cunt Reprieve

2008-06-18T20:01:00.003+01:00

The voting for this weeks eviction has been cancelled according to the Little Brother and Big Brother folk. No information as to why, but obviously the cunt is going to get another week now.

Bollocks.

It's all probably something to do with every single phone vote these days being completely rigged and it follows on from the controversy of last weeks vote, where it was alleged that problems with the voting could lead to Stephanie re-entering the house.

Producers are currently tight-lipped, probably in an office somewhere, supping Starbucks and wondering what lie they can peddle to try and turn around a blatantly ridiculous situation.

Mind you, the Press Association have their own theory which is:

"The announcement also follows speculation that housemate Jennifer Clark might have to quit the show to appear in court.

The young mother has been ordered by a court to explain why she did not attend a hearing involving the breakdown of her marriage, according to reports. Clark, 22, missed the case to appear on the Channel 4 show.

If she did leave there would be no need for an eviction this week."

Full article here.

Stroke Victim and Cunt

2008-06-17T19:35:00.003+01:00

Alex and Mario are up for eviction on Friday, as was widely expected. How big headed is Mario going to get when he survives eviction for a second time and the housemates all start believing the hype about his fan club and popularity? Unless the producers paint Mario very badly this week and Alex behaves, then the stroke victim might be leaving,

How Are They Getting On?

2008-06-17T08:34:00.004+01:00

After 12 days or so, I thought that it might be a good time to give an unbiased and intelligent overview of how each of the housemates is coping with life in the house. This will involve giving a fair and thoughtful assessment of their character.

We may as well go through them in the order that they entered the house, so we've got swingers Mario and Lisa first. It's actually become quite creepy watching how Lisa crawls around sniffing the shit from Mario's arse, teasing his turtles heads with a curious finger and licking her digits as if she's ran out of biscuits on a chocolate dip. The transvestite bodybuilder is besotted with Mario and seems to be under some form of spell. He's like a fucking warlock, he's even got the blind twat in his pocket. Whilst many of the housemates dislike him, Lisa and Mikey are like Branch Davidians to Mario's David Koresh. He'll be trying to arse maul Mikey next and trying to convince him he'll be able to carry his child. Watch out for the FBI storming the house in week 9 and burning all of the housemates to death.

One dimensional virgin, Luke, was next. The girls say, "Ooh he's so nice", "Ooh he's so funny", whatever. Would you fuck him? No. He's basically tarnished for his whole life with being some sort of sitcom character from the 70's which it isn't fashionable to be again, yet. Once we come full circle and the BBC brings back situation comedy that involves overt racism and ill-thought out innuendo, then we'll let you speak up Luke and you'll get all the fanny you desire. However, I don't think it'll ever happen. He doesn't drink, swear or smoke, what a boring twat. How can you deprive yourself of some of the best things about being alive? I'd spike the fucker if I was in there, wait till he wasn't looking and spike his meals and drinks with loads of cheap Mitsy's, then sit back and watch him go absolutely mental to the point where he's sobbing his heart out and trying to crawl down a crack in the settee, whilst I stand there laughing and throwing slices of bread off his stupid pea head.

Rachel was the next housemate, and what a boring balding mong. She falls into the category of one of those lasses that I can't stand at all. You all know the type, 18-24 age bracket, one horrifically bland boyfriend their whole life, who they talk about full time at work and refer to him by his Christian name only as if you know them. She'll go on as if she's in her 50's even though she's only 24, talking to the menopausal hags at the coffee machine about the shite grown up telly that was on the night before, going on and on about how horrifically bland her weekend was, and the simple fact is that she's spent her whole life with this one horrifically bland boyfriend and hasn't ever been fucked properly. Lots of these types escape the hum-drum and learn a couple of other positions off a new boyfriend, but many are destined to be married by the age of 21 in a marriage that will become largely loveless by the time they're in their 40's, and the focal point of their relationship will be the children they spawned when they were 23, which has since left the marriage sexless and stagnant. She'll hate her body, her arse, her baggy wizards sleeve of a twat, her stretch marks and he'll try and rectify his self hatred by buying a sports car. He'll probably start getting sucked off by his secretary if he's daring enough. Yes, I think that's a fair assessment of Rachel.

DJ and pretty boy with not much to offer, Dale, came next. I honestly despair for this lad. I honestly thought he would go in and nail everyone in sight, be a total chauvinist pig but bang the arse of everyone that's in there whilst looking at himself in the mirror and flexing his guns Patrick Bateman stylee. It turns out that he's went in there, full of testosterone and a giant cock waiting to be grafted, but lost it all by falling in love and becoming obsessed with Jennifer. I would imagine by now, that his penis has become inverted and started touching the inside of his appendix and she'll soon have him rolling over and having his belly tickled and cleaning her discharge covered knickers. He's lost it. By week six I predict they'll find him cowering in a wardrobe, thrapping away at his cock like he's playing Daley Thompson's Decathlon, and screaming in a mirror "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you". Seriously Dale, grow some spuds and fuck her off, enjoy yourself, fuck that Sylvia man, she's game as fuck and she's not damaged goods.

Speaking of Sylvia, she's by far the most two faced in the house. Running in between all of the little cliques telling tales and spreading rumours and winding everyone up, she'll not last long. Everyone is starting to suss out that she actually has nothing to offer the house other than bitching and talking in some stupid London/Sierra Leone accent. When she gets out they should put her in some sort of Bad Lads style army assault course to test the incredible combat skills she learnt whilst fighting off the Revolutionary United Front. She couldn't be any more full of shit if she tried.

Dennis is just as boring as I thought he'd be. Another total bitch who comes out with that stereotypical line that bitches come out with, i.e. "If I've got something to say, I'll say it to your face". Fuck off man, we're so bored to death of hearing that bullshit. What do you offer the house? You prance around singing in a stupid voice at the top of your voice, you smoke, and you cry. That's it. That is all you bring to the table. Is that on his fucking CV under hobbies and interest? Singing, smoking and crying? What a shite cunt.

Blind freak, Mikey, was the next one to join us. Fuck me, what the fuck is his wardrobe? Does he just have a trunk full of fancy dress outfits? I'm half expecting to turn on one day and see him dressed as Hitler or as a fat gangster with a plastic Tommy gun. He was on there last night dressed as a cowboy for fucks sake, with a neckerchief on?!? Somebody have a fucking word. He's got the haircut of a Lithuanian exchange student and the dress code of a third world AID's ridden teenager. I wonder if he's in one of those programmes where he gets sent a load of old clothes in a black bin bag like they do in that Ethiopia. He'll be turning out in a 23 year old football shirt next that's five sizes too small for him, it'll be like a fucking belly top on him, with his blind pale belly hanging out the bottom. Wipe the flies off his blind face, give him some fucking flour to munch on, and sit the bow-legged Rickets ridden cunt in the corner. I'd get some glue and stick loads of bits of rice on the carpets me like and tell him it's some sort of special Braille task on the floor and he's got to work out what it says, just leave the cunt in the house all day whilst me and the rest of the housemates went outside to do some able bodied and fully sighted fun activities.

Alexandra, I'm not going to go over old ground again with you. I think we all know the score, don't we? She'll be out on Friday with any luck. I'm not even wasting my time typing. Make the most of your ten seconds of fame when you get out, before you go back to your pathetic life of living in some crummy tower block and flicking your bean to Jeremy Kyle.

Spoilt chef, Rex, came through the doors after the cunt. He seems to be the most straightforward one in there. He's the nemesis of Alex and he cooks everything for them. He'll probably make the final week as they're all too lazy to cook themselves so he'll be kept in just on that basis. The producers will probably introduce a task which takes Rex out of the kitchen to make things more interesting. He's formed a bit of a bond with Mohamed.

Mohamed the fat Muslim, has taken to eating mayonnaise on toast. You horrible, dirty, filthy hack. He's been banging on again about drinking and smoking even though he's a Muslim (again). Is that all your patter consists of? "I smoke, I drink, which is funny as I'm a Muslim". Who gives a flying fuck about you? Who fucking cares man? And those laps that you do round the garden after eating your mayonnaise aren't going to shift that horrific fucking kite you've got swinging around your mid-riff. Smoke some more and stop eating pure filth. I bet he fucking stinks.

Rebecca is a tramp, but she's a bit more of a likable tramp than I'd earlier anticipated. She's like a tramp who has a bit of a skill, like the mouth organ or guitar, or a mangy dog, rather than a tramp who imposes himself on you and breathes meths up your early morning snout. Well, sort of anyhow, apart from her not having a skill or a mangy dog. She doesn't actually seem to have anything about her, she's just some normal lass who gets her tits out when she's had a few, harmless really. Let's put our cards on the table though, she's not going to win, so we may as well kick her out now.

Albino Bond villain, Darnell, seems OK. He's stood his ground against the stroke victim and against Jennifer a couple of times and he does seems genuine enough, even though you wouldn't let him near your children. I'm not suggesting he's a nonce, but he's just a bit scary for kids. People that look like him should just be kept under the stairs or in a back yard kennel. They should just make a big hutch for him and fill it with lots of nice hay for his glossy skin to lie on and just feed him carrots and stuff. I'm surprised he's never joined a circus, actually. He'd make a fortune in a freak show.

Now what can we say about Jennifer? She sort of falls into the same boring category as Rachel, except that she'd definitely do the dirty. Another one of those lasses that pretends they're so high maintenance and they've got morals, when in fact they are as cheap as they come. She's stringing Dale on a bit, but if he gets her pissed enough he'll probably be able to get her fucked. Personally, I don't get the attraction in a lass that resembles Skeletor without the energy draining chains and has the teeth of a Californian crackhead. I'm sure she went into the house with a boyfriend, so she's either a cheating slag or she's playing Dale for a tit, probably both.

And finally, it's the cookie monster. She does actually look like she's lost weight since entering the house. She's still scary and easily the most likely to go mental and kill everyone and the least likely to get fucked. I can imagine her bludgeoning Mikey to death with a packet of Hob Nobs. She's the clear favourite to win. She's also been massaging people. There's absolutely Bob Hope of me letting her sugary lady's fingers come anywhere near my skin, horrible obese bison dog. She'd probably try and tear a chunk out of your shoulder and then sit slavering your blood all over her chin whilst caressing her breasts. She's sick in the head.

So I'll do an update once the nominations are out. Farewell.

Stephanie Leaves

2008-06-16T08:39:00.005+01:00

A quick update from the weekend then. Friday night saw shit shitter, Stephanie, exit the house. This came as a massive surprise to the bookmakers as Mario was a clear favourite for the boot. However, the stroke victim and his lapdog transvestite partner were quick to reveal that they have a massive fan club back home and they have friends all over the country who are keeping them in.

In fact, Mario seems to be getting a little bit too carried away with his survival, already talking to Mikey about the final, as well as explaining again to the blind bastard that he is so much better than the other housemates, and he's not a fame hungry retard like the rest of them. He has vast management experience as he has ran a multi-million pound national company and worked in the army and participated in tasks all of his life, then of course, Lisa pipes in, "yes, he has, he's done it all, he's great" etc. etc.

Meanwhile, Sylvia has demonstrated her game plan by going backwards and forwards between various groups and trying to distance herself from Alex, but then being nice as pie to Alex. She's stirred things up a bit with Jennifer and Dennis, whilst saying fuck all to Alex.

The producers seem to be trying to keep Alex in, as earlier predicted. Most of the weekend has provided a focus on how much of a twat Mario is, with Alex featuring very little. Mohamed and Rex had a conversation with regards to Alex's motives which reported that she's started being nice to everyone once the eviction was over, yet more old-school Big Brother nomination tactics. It looks very likely that Mario will be up for eviction on Friday once the housemates have their first vote, I would imagine he could well be up with Alex and/or Rex, as these seem to be the big characters at the moment, but we'll have to see.

In other news, the group participated in a task whereby they all had to learn a musical instrument and perform "When the Saints Go Marching In", with Darnell as conductor. As conductor, Darnell had to allocate which housemate played which instrument. Again, this led to friction between Mario and another housemate. Mario instantly became the protector of the handicapped (again) by stating that Mikey should have first choice of instrument as he's blind (?). However, it transpired that he wasn't actually allowed to have a say in what instrument he was to play, and was allocated the triangle, because of its ease, in what was possibly one of the most patronising things I've witnessed on television in years.

The final rendition of the song was horrific, with Mario moving from blowing his own trumpet to the tuba.

Housemates have since had a clear the air meeting, proposed by Dennis, in which bitching and slagging each other off was brought up. They've also failed their most recent task, whereby they had to organise 6,250 grams of crisps into four different flavours by licking them, the flavours being Salt 'n' Vinegar, Cheese and Onion, Worcester Sauce and Ready Salted.

That's about it for now, it's all getting a bit boring in all honesty.

Here's a video of Mario and the tranny, the blind leading the blind. Note Lisa dressed as country legend Willie Nelson. "Tell them about the Ant and Dec". What's "the Ant and Dec"?!?! They're people not an object you tranny fuck.