F*uck the alcohol alliance stop messin with my binging!!

this is the monthly bullitin I get from a “friend” who created this group on facebook. He’s funny as f*ck and always makes me laugh :lol: if you like it I will post his somewhat erratically timed posts…. we often dont hear from him in months but I think it is always worth the wait 8)

Ok so I realise that I have been ever so slightly neglectful of you wonderful people. I can only apologise – in my defense though I have dutifully been getting absolutely slaughtered and I know somewhere deep in my heart that you have been doing the same – good on ya guys. Keep up the good work.

ANYWAY

drunken rant styleeee

I want to talk about shit TV programs. This one isn’t so much a rant actually as it is a rather refreshing bit of praise, because much as I hate people who dish out the names of these shows (for those who don’t know what I mean, whack on any of the arse-end Sky channels and sit through half an hour of such jems as “The Boy Who Gave Birth to His Twin” or “Help, My Dog is as Fat as Me” – see why the people who name these things are twats?), watching them fills me with a great sense of pride in humanity. Don’t stop reading. This is about to get good.

Allow me to explain.

Watching programs like Big Brother, I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and Pop Idol remind me what the greatest, most important part of human nature is all about. What it means, if you will, to be an absolute bastard. I mean who watches Jerry Springer because it’s an accurate portrayal of American family life? HELL no – you watch it because someone will invariably wap out their tits and then for no discernable reason attempt to mutilate the person sat next to them. Big Brother we watch for that joyous moment when someone cracks, pisses in a bin and climbs over a wall (I cant remember which year that was but jesus it was awesome), anything with the word celebrity at the beginning is just pure amusement at how low people will stoop to retrieve their career which was, unfailingly, shite to begin with. As for Pop Idol…. well…. I don’t know about you but it all goes a bit wrong when people stop telling the weird freaks at the beginning that they should go back to the abattoir which they probably work in.

I do have a question though. How do you get to the point where it seems like a good idea to go on? How can these people not KNOW that they are going to get ruined? Live? In front of MILLIONS of people?

If you were, hypothetically, a transexual, voodoo practicing midget with a history of poor mental health and an imaginary friend named “Uncle Hitler” and you applied for Big Brother, when that letter came through the door would you go “ooh good that’ll be a foot in the door to fame and fortune”?

No.

You fucking wouldn’t.

Yet they go on anyway! For my amusement!

Anyone who genuinely thinks that being, effectively, psychologically tortured for my amusement is absolutely, without fail, the jewel in humanity’s big ol’ media made crown. I wouldn’t go as far as to, say, urinate upon a conflagration which consumed them, but I have a silent respect. One that doesn’t involve them speaking to, or indeed being anywhere near, me.

Hmmmm I’m beginning to doubt my original premise of this being a bit of praise – I promise that it sounded like praise in my head.

I do however, have an idea for the reality TV folk. A challenge even. I want to make a show called “Celebrity Help He’s a Leper, Get Him Out Of Here”. Now bear with me on this one. Twelve failing celebrities, in the jungle, one of whom has early stage leprosy. Every week they have to vote one person out in the hope of getting rid of the disease before they all catch it. There must be some celebrities somewhere who are up for it. What are Vanessa Feltz and Anneka Rice up to these days?

Variants on this include, Help I’m Epileptic Get Me Out of Here (where if they pass the task they get a crate of food, if they fail they get a crate of strobe lights), and Big Smother (where the person who gets voted off each week just gets killed. No questions asked.)

Anyway, enough of that. Opinions on the subject are to be posted on the noticeboard on the site and so on and so forth. Oh and a small alcohol based prize (subject to living near me and being willing to buy your own alcohol based prize) to the person who finds the stupidest name or premise for a TV show.

It has to beat Who’s Your Daddy if its a premise (for those who are unaware of this amzing piece of televisual history check
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Who%27s_Your_Daddy%3F_%28TV_series%29
it is just so stunningly immoral it hurts)

Or for names you have to beat “The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off”, which was, despite it’s amusing name, actually quite tragic. Still. Funny fucking name.