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Picked this up today for a steal. It's a collection of the TVGoHome creators guardian tv column writings. Now, I don't watch much TV, but adore Brooker.s The man makes me laugh with his acid wit, plain and simple. If you see it in the shops, buy it, it's marvelous. He charts the misery of Ricky from Eastenders, the fall of Eurotrash (It's "just too tame" he winges, "remove the Euro fro the title and film it weekly from Thailands seedier quarters") and the rise of realisty TV.
Very, very funny. A sample: -
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Sick and tired of being talked down to? Of course you are, stupid. Everywhere you look, you're being patronised, you poor little thing.
You can't even smoke a fag and slug a coffee without being told CONTENTS OF CUP MAY BE HOT and reminded that SMOKING KILLS.
And what about computers? They're bloody patronising. Look at all those little folders with names like My Computer or My Documents, My this and My that. Well duhhhh - who else's stuff is it likely to be? Todd Carty's?
Obvious labels, everywhere you look. And that includes the TV listings: programme titles are getting increasingly insulting with each passing week.
Last week, ITV brought you a sex-swap documentary called My Mum Is My Dad, this week Channel 4 brings you My Breasts Are Too Big(Wed, 9pm, C4), a heart-rending look at women whose breasts are too big. Who knows, it might be the most sympathetic documentary ever made, but that title reduces everyone in it to the level of a freak, clearly labelled for the benefit of passing masturbators.
If Channel 4 were being honest, of course, they wouldn't have bothered with the "documentary" element, and instead simply paid some women to bare their chests in front of webcams, broadcast the results live on air, and called it My Breasts Are Too Big, Or Too Small, Or Just Right, Or Whatever - Who Cares, Just Watch 'Em Jiggle - LIVE!!!
A name like that would hoover up even more idle perverts than My Breasts Are Too Big, and stands a better chance of providing the viewing figures they're patently, nakedly, embarrassingly chasing. Who cares if your audience consists of clueless masturbators, as long as there's millions of 'em, eh?
Speaking of honest titling, it's about time they came up with a new name for the equally patronising Bo' Selecta(Fri, 10.45pm, C4) - something that better reflects the show's contents. Something like Witless Pipdribble, perhaps, or Astronomically Dismal, or just plain S***.
Earlier this year, I sat on the Bafta jury for Best Comedy Programme. Bo' Selecta didn't win, but it was one of the four final nominees. Why? Because the rules stipulated there had to be four nominees. No one really wanted Bo' Selecta to be there. That's how bad it is.
(For what it's worth, I wanted Harry Hill's TV Burp to get the recognition it deserves, but the rest of the panel considered it worse than Bo' Selecta - the philistines. They also outvoted me by nominating BBC2's Double Take, perhaps the most dismally pompous "comedy" series I've ever seen.)
Anyway, what's wrong with Bo' Selecta? How long is a piece of string? It's just amazingly, hideously, unacceptably, reason-defyingly awful: a 45-minute vomit of mirthless swearing and canned laughter, aimed squarely at the kind of cow-brained retard who spends 98% of their waking life wondering which ringtone to download next. We should be rounding these people up and chemically neutering them, not broadcasting shows in their honour.
Perhaps most frustrating of all, there are some GENUINELY funny ideas amidst all the crap. It was funny once (and precisely once) to see Craig David talking with an unlikely northern accent and caring for a pet kestrel. But that seems like a very long time ago, and now all we're left with is a worthless, offensively feeble show that purports to mercilessly skewer the cult of celebrity, but actually crawls along behind it on hands and knees, begging to kiss its bumhole clean.
Ooooh, pleeeease Patsy Kensit - will you appear on our show? In a series of crashingly unfunny sketches? So you haven't got a comic bone in your body - so what? You're faaaamooousss, mmm, mmm, kissy kissy kiss kiss.
Christ, it's just plain EMBARRASSING. If I worked on Bo' Selecta, and my parents asked me what I did for a living, I'd lie and say I sat in a dustbin giving blow jobs for pennies. Just to retain some dignity."
Very, very funny. A sample: -
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Sick and tired of being talked down to? Of course you are, stupid. Everywhere you look, you're being patronised, you poor little thing.
You can't even smoke a fag and slug a coffee without being told CONTENTS OF CUP MAY BE HOT and reminded that SMOKING KILLS.
And what about computers? They're bloody patronising. Look at all those little folders with names like My Computer or My Documents, My this and My that. Well duhhhh - who else's stuff is it likely to be? Todd Carty's?
Obvious labels, everywhere you look. And that includes the TV listings: programme titles are getting increasingly insulting with each passing week.
Last week, ITV brought you a sex-swap documentary called My Mum Is My Dad, this week Channel 4 brings you My Breasts Are Too Big(Wed, 9pm, C4), a heart-rending look at women whose breasts are too big. Who knows, it might be the most sympathetic documentary ever made, but that title reduces everyone in it to the level of a freak, clearly labelled for the benefit of passing masturbators.
If Channel 4 were being honest, of course, they wouldn't have bothered with the "documentary" element, and instead simply paid some women to bare their chests in front of webcams, broadcast the results live on air, and called it My Breasts Are Too Big, Or Too Small, Or Just Right, Or Whatever - Who Cares, Just Watch 'Em Jiggle - LIVE!!!
A name like that would hoover up even more idle perverts than My Breasts Are Too Big, and stands a better chance of providing the viewing figures they're patently, nakedly, embarrassingly chasing. Who cares if your audience consists of clueless masturbators, as long as there's millions of 'em, eh?
Speaking of honest titling, it's about time they came up with a new name for the equally patronising Bo' Selecta(Fri, 10.45pm, C4) - something that better reflects the show's contents. Something like Witless Pipdribble, perhaps, or Astronomically Dismal, or just plain S***.
Earlier this year, I sat on the Bafta jury for Best Comedy Programme. Bo' Selecta didn't win, but it was one of the four final nominees. Why? Because the rules stipulated there had to be four nominees. No one really wanted Bo' Selecta to be there. That's how bad it is.
(For what it's worth, I wanted Harry Hill's TV Burp to get the recognition it deserves, but the rest of the panel considered it worse than Bo' Selecta - the philistines. They also outvoted me by nominating BBC2's Double Take, perhaps the most dismally pompous "comedy" series I've ever seen.)
Anyway, what's wrong with Bo' Selecta? How long is a piece of string? It's just amazingly, hideously, unacceptably, reason-defyingly awful: a 45-minute vomit of mirthless swearing and canned laughter, aimed squarely at the kind of cow-brained retard who spends 98% of their waking life wondering which ringtone to download next. We should be rounding these people up and chemically neutering them, not broadcasting shows in their honour.
Perhaps most frustrating of all, there are some GENUINELY funny ideas amidst all the crap. It was funny once (and precisely once) to see Craig David talking with an unlikely northern accent and caring for a pet kestrel. But that seems like a very long time ago, and now all we're left with is a worthless, offensively feeble show that purports to mercilessly skewer the cult of celebrity, but actually crawls along behind it on hands and knees, begging to kiss its bumhole clean.
Ooooh, pleeeease Patsy Kensit - will you appear on our show? In a series of crashingly unfunny sketches? So you haven't got a comic bone in your body - so what? You're faaaamooousss, mmm, mmm, kissy kissy kiss kiss.
Christ, it's just plain EMBARRASSING. If I worked on Bo' Selecta, and my parents asked me what I did for a living, I'd lie and say I sat in a dustbin giving blow jobs for pennies. Just to retain some dignity."
I usually read the column if I'm at home. His rantings on Christmas TV were fantastic; the BBC TV schedule was "for the inner child, like opening the wrapping paper on Christmas Day to reveal a used dishcloth, a handful of gravel, and a secondhand copy of Microsoft Excel. And Santa'a wiped his bum on the gift tag."
Also, on the Christmas Eastenders special:
"I haven't seen it, but judging from previous specials, it'll probably involve Little Mo cutting her shin on a broken wine glass and bleeding to death in an empty flat, followed by an uplifting finale in which a dirty bomb goes off in the centre of the square, right in a baby's face"
Also, on the Christmas Eastenders special:
"I haven't seen it, but judging from previous specials, it'll probably involve Little Mo cutting her shin on a broken wine glass and bleeding to death in an empty flat, followed by an uplifting finale in which a dirty bomb goes off in the centre of the square, right in a baby's face"
Mr Snuggly wrote:
> The man's a genius, it's the only thing worth reading on the Guardian
> on Saturday morning. Wish he'd get round to relaunching TVGoHome
> though, or at least shed some light on the Nathan Barley show.
> Unnovations was rubbish and TVGH hasn't been updated in years.
Sent him an Email. I'll let you know if I get feedback. I'm expecting something, as I've received emails off him before regarding SuperKaylo. Thourghly decent chap all in all.
> The man's a genius, it's the only thing worth reading on the Guardian
> on Saturday morning. Wish he'd get round to relaunching TVGoHome
> though, or at least shed some light on the Nathan Barley show.
> Unnovations was rubbish and TVGH hasn't been updated in years.
Sent him an Email. I'll let you know if I get feedback. I'm expecting something, as I've received emails off him before regarding SuperKaylo. Thourghly decent chap all in all.
I might spend some of my hard earned book tokens on this. TVGH was genius, I remember it, a little bit like The Onion I seem to remember.
The man's a genius, it's the only thing worth reading on the Guardian on Saturday morning. Wish he'd get round to relaunching TVGoHome though, or at least shed some light on the Nathan Barley show. Unnovations was rubbish and TVGH hasn't been updated in years.
Harry Hill's TV Burp, and Harry Hill in general, is completely and utterly rubbish. it's almost soul destroying to watch, as is Bo Selecta these days. Did anyone see the christmas special? I cannot even comment. Show Me The Funny, which 'Merrion' stole all his ideas from, was much better.
Pandaemonium wrote:
> Christ, it's just plain EMBARRASSING. If I worked on Bo' Selecta, and
> my parents asked me what I did for a living, I'd lie and say I sat in
> a dustbin giving blow jobs for pennies. Just to retain some
> dignity."
I hail Bo Selecta with the same amount of credit I give a Down's winning a race with other Down's kids.
> Christ, it's just plain EMBARRASSING. If I worked on Bo' Selecta, and
> my parents asked me what I did for a living, I'd lie and say I sat in
> a dustbin giving blow jobs for pennies. Just to retain some
> dignity."
I hail Bo Selecta with the same amount of credit I give a Down's winning a race with other Down's kids.
Picked this up today for a steal. It's a collection of the TVGoHome creators guardian tv column writings. Now, I don't watch much TV, but adore Brooker.s The man makes me laugh with his acid wit, plain and simple. If you see it in the shops, buy it, it's marvelous. He charts the misery of Ricky from Eastenders, the fall of Eurotrash (It's "just too tame" he winges, "remove the Euro fro the title and film it weekly from Thailands seedier quarters") and the rise of realisty TV.
Very, very funny. A sample: -
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Sick and tired of being talked down to? Of course you are, stupid. Everywhere you look, you're being patronised, you poor little thing.
You can't even smoke a fag and slug a coffee without being told CONTENTS OF CUP MAY BE HOT and reminded that SMOKING KILLS.
And what about computers? They're bloody patronising. Look at all those little folders with names like My Computer or My Documents, My this and My that. Well duhhhh - who else's stuff is it likely to be? Todd Carty's?
Obvious labels, everywhere you look. And that includes the TV listings: programme titles are getting increasingly insulting with each passing week.
Last week, ITV brought you a sex-swap documentary called My Mum Is My Dad, this week Channel 4 brings you My Breasts Are Too Big(Wed, 9pm, C4), a heart-rending look at women whose breasts are too big. Who knows, it might be the most sympathetic documentary ever made, but that title reduces everyone in it to the level of a freak, clearly labelled for the benefit of passing masturbators.
If Channel 4 were being honest, of course, they wouldn't have bothered with the "documentary" element, and instead simply paid some women to bare their chests in front of webcams, broadcast the results live on air, and called it My Breasts Are Too Big, Or Too Small, Or Just Right, Or Whatever - Who Cares, Just Watch 'Em Jiggle - LIVE!!!
A name like that would hoover up even more idle perverts than My Breasts Are Too Big, and stands a better chance of providing the viewing figures they're patently, nakedly, embarrassingly chasing. Who cares if your audience consists of clueless masturbators, as long as there's millions of 'em, eh?
Speaking of honest titling, it's about time they came up with a new name for the equally patronising Bo' Selecta(Fri, 10.45pm, C4) - something that better reflects the show's contents. Something like Witless Pipdribble, perhaps, or Astronomically Dismal, or just plain S***.
Earlier this year, I sat on the Bafta jury for Best Comedy Programme. Bo' Selecta didn't win, but it was one of the four final nominees. Why? Because the rules stipulated there had to be four nominees. No one really wanted Bo' Selecta to be there. That's how bad it is.
(For what it's worth, I wanted Harry Hill's TV Burp to get the recognition it deserves, but the rest of the panel considered it worse than Bo' Selecta - the philistines. They also outvoted me by nominating BBC2's Double Take, perhaps the most dismally pompous "comedy" series I've ever seen.)
Anyway, what's wrong with Bo' Selecta? How long is a piece of string? It's just amazingly, hideously, unacceptably, reason-defyingly awful: a 45-minute vomit of mirthless swearing and canned laughter, aimed squarely at the kind of cow-brained retard who spends 98% of their waking life wondering which ringtone to download next. We should be rounding these people up and chemically neutering them, not broadcasting shows in their honour.
Perhaps most frustrating of all, there are some GENUINELY funny ideas amidst all the crap. It was funny once (and precisely once) to see Craig David talking with an unlikely northern accent and caring for a pet kestrel. But that seems like a very long time ago, and now all we're left with is a worthless, offensively feeble show that purports to mercilessly skewer the cult of celebrity, but actually crawls along behind it on hands and knees, begging to kiss its bumhole clean.
Ooooh, pleeeease Patsy Kensit - will you appear on our show? In a series of crashingly unfunny sketches? So you haven't got a comic bone in your body - so what? You're faaaamooousss, mmm, mmm, kissy kissy kiss kiss.
Christ, it's just plain EMBARRASSING. If I worked on Bo' Selecta, and my parents asked me what I did for a living, I'd lie and say I sat in a dustbin giving blow jobs for pennies. Just to retain some dignity."
Very, very funny. A sample: -
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Sick and tired of being talked down to? Of course you are, stupid. Everywhere you look, you're being patronised, you poor little thing.
You can't even smoke a fag and slug a coffee without being told CONTENTS OF CUP MAY BE HOT and reminded that SMOKING KILLS.
And what about computers? They're bloody patronising. Look at all those little folders with names like My Computer or My Documents, My this and My that. Well duhhhh - who else's stuff is it likely to be? Todd Carty's?
Obvious labels, everywhere you look. And that includes the TV listings: programme titles are getting increasingly insulting with each passing week.
Last week, ITV brought you a sex-swap documentary called My Mum Is My Dad, this week Channel 4 brings you My Breasts Are Too Big(Wed, 9pm, C4), a heart-rending look at women whose breasts are too big. Who knows, it might be the most sympathetic documentary ever made, but that title reduces everyone in it to the level of a freak, clearly labelled for the benefit of passing masturbators.
If Channel 4 were being honest, of course, they wouldn't have bothered with the "documentary" element, and instead simply paid some women to bare their chests in front of webcams, broadcast the results live on air, and called it My Breasts Are Too Big, Or Too Small, Or Just Right, Or Whatever - Who Cares, Just Watch 'Em Jiggle - LIVE!!!
A name like that would hoover up even more idle perverts than My Breasts Are Too Big, and stands a better chance of providing the viewing figures they're patently, nakedly, embarrassingly chasing. Who cares if your audience consists of clueless masturbators, as long as there's millions of 'em, eh?
Speaking of honest titling, it's about time they came up with a new name for the equally patronising Bo' Selecta(Fri, 10.45pm, C4) - something that better reflects the show's contents. Something like Witless Pipdribble, perhaps, or Astronomically Dismal, or just plain S***.
Earlier this year, I sat on the Bafta jury for Best Comedy Programme. Bo' Selecta didn't win, but it was one of the four final nominees. Why? Because the rules stipulated there had to be four nominees. No one really wanted Bo' Selecta to be there. That's how bad it is.
(For what it's worth, I wanted Harry Hill's TV Burp to get the recognition it deserves, but the rest of the panel considered it worse than Bo' Selecta - the philistines. They also outvoted me by nominating BBC2's Double Take, perhaps the most dismally pompous "comedy" series I've ever seen.)
Anyway, what's wrong with Bo' Selecta? How long is a piece of string? It's just amazingly, hideously, unacceptably, reason-defyingly awful: a 45-minute vomit of mirthless swearing and canned laughter, aimed squarely at the kind of cow-brained retard who spends 98% of their waking life wondering which ringtone to download next. We should be rounding these people up and chemically neutering them, not broadcasting shows in their honour.
Perhaps most frustrating of all, there are some GENUINELY funny ideas amidst all the crap. It was funny once (and precisely once) to see Craig David talking with an unlikely northern accent and caring for a pet kestrel. But that seems like a very long time ago, and now all we're left with is a worthless, offensively feeble show that purports to mercilessly skewer the cult of celebrity, but actually crawls along behind it on hands and knees, begging to kiss its bumhole clean.
Ooooh, pleeeease Patsy Kensit - will you appear on our show? In a series of crashingly unfunny sketches? So you haven't got a comic bone in your body - so what? You're faaaamooousss, mmm, mmm, kissy kissy kiss kiss.
Christ, it's just plain EMBARRASSING. If I worked on Bo' Selecta, and my parents asked me what I did for a living, I'd lie and say I sat in a dustbin giving blow jobs for pennies. Just to retain some dignity."