Princess Diana
Fat, lazy stupid woman of privelege who stole millions of taxpayers money to fund her lavish lifestyle and love nest with proto-terrorists.

AND she gave the world one more ginger, which I've been told is impossible unless one of the parents is a ginger. So double hate to her for being a ginger mong.
( Sextant goes to him is emotionally erect, on this day, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 13:14, Reply)

The Queen Mother
she gave birth to an alien lizard who is in cahoots to take over the world.

...and I bet she isn't really dead either.
( Sextant goes to him is emotionally erect, on this day, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 13:12, Reply)

Noel and Liam Gallagher.
It is one thing having swagger and attitude when you are young, snotty, up-and-coming working class lads getting your first taste of the big world; but all the OTT ‘Street-Mancunianism’, ‘v-flicking’ and fake fights with the press makes you look like a right sad cock when you are sheltered multi-millionaires who have not penned a decent song since 1994.

Total fucking tossers.
(Tugnut Ex of this parish, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 12:57, 1 reply)

Louise Redknapp
She's single handedly ruined 'Something for the Weekend' with her vacuous, mong faced, sycophantic utterings that spew from her, itching to be slapped and encased in concrete, face.

Sunday mornings used to be nice and relaxing now they're just stressful even with the addition of recreational herbs!

Once this question is finished can we get a mob or rabble (which one comes with torches and pitchforks?) together and work our way thorugh the chart?
(KipperMinge has been watching out for the penguins since, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 11:46, 4 replies)

Where's The B3tan Who Blew Up Orville?
Enquiring minds need to be told.

As I recall, Keith Harris had queened it over the backstage crew to the extent that their only possible recourse was to pack the duck with explosives and set them off as he travelled over the audience's heads on a flying wire.

Harris's state of mind afterwards was described, I think, as 'apoplectic'.

Step forward, that b3tan!
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 11:42, 2 replies)

pete doherty
why is this man alive at all? what a steaming twat and a half he is. he is not even attractive, which might have been his sole redeeming feature. why not just ship him off to afghanistan with a giant needle and let him shoot himself to death. or get shot to death. whichever, so long as it's slow and lingering and therefore mirrors the way i feel inside every time i see his pasty bloodshot face on the front of the newspaper for avoiding yet another prison bumming session...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 10:17, 7 replies)

Landfill
Always thought he was a waste of space
(LongJohnBaldry, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 10:09, 3 replies)

Jimmy Dohertty

Has anyone mentioned him yet?

Why is he on television? It has to be the biggest example of "it's not what you know, it's who you know." I don't know who he knows, but how the fuck did it happen? He was a Phd biologist or something and decided to set up a pig farm. Fine. HOW COME THERE WAS A FILM CREW THERE FROM THE VERY START?????

There are thousands of young people with dreams. They either go for it, or they don't. What they don't have is the support of the BBC - not just free publicity, but publicity that they get paid for! Talk about second income streams.

Now he's a bleedin' crucader for causes - I didn't watch as it annoys me too much. Hello, BBBC? Stop paying this man and let him sink or swim on his own. We don't care.



I wonder what next week's question will be?
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 9:53, 3 replies)

You know who I hate?
That Spikeypickle.

What a twat.
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 9:32, Reply)

Just time to slip in a rant about Strictly
I'll be interested to see if anyone cares enough to respond, to be honest

These are the people to blame for ruining Strictly Come Dancing. And who I think should replace them. And what should happen to the culprits (clue: they die)

Bruce Forsyth - you can tell me he's an entertainment legend all you like, the man is borderline senile and his jokes are worse than mine down the pub on a Friday night. Part of me hopes he'll actually soil himself mid-broadcast, but to make the programme entertaining again it needs Frankie Boyle to take over as host. Imagine how he would've treated John Sergeant. "Well John, that was shite and you look like a cunt in sequins".

Tess Daly - any woman stupid enough to unleash Vernon Kay's offspring upon the world has something a bit sinister about her, especially when she could obviously do so much better. And she's not good with the whole human emotion thing. She must be a cyborg. Give the job to Claudia, when she had a crack at it last series she kicked Daly's arse all the way around the block and pissed on it when it got back, looking tired and ragged and generally a bit unkempt

Len fucking Goodman - head judge? I assume that's a reference to what he was prepared to give in order to get the job. At some point in series 4 he stopped caring about, y'know, judging and started playing a character more. Coupled with the obvious onset of Alzheimers he's just talking complete bollocks now. Get shot of him before he forgets who he is live on air.

Alesha Dixon - hardly seems worth the effort sticking the boot in here but honestly, trying to sex up the judging panel with Alesha Dixon?! Either get someone who's in a position to judge or someone who's actually halfway decent to look at! Fucking Council Estate Barbie. Bring in Statler and Waldorf to replace her and Goodman. They'll talk just as much sense and god knows the show could do with some laughs

Whoever thought a programme with the words "Strictly" and "Dancing" in the title needed a fucking Salsa. It's not a dance! It's a fucking condiment!

The producers, for continually bringing in contestants that they know will be shit, but who will divide public opinion and boost ratings. John Sergeant. Kate Garraway. Kenny Logan. These people are all useless cunts. Chris Hollins wasn't much better and he won because the British public are clueless morons. The BBC could save us all a lot of time by parading the "celebrities" (that reminds me, can we have some famous people next series please?) in the first show, getting people to vote based on who they like the look of, and then have 12 weeks of professional, y'know, DANCING as opposed to the shite that Hollins was trotting out each week. They should rename it Whatever Come Bullshit (and it helps if you work for the BBC - we'll rig the voting for you if you do. Tom Chambers)

All of the above should be chloroformed, abducted, dressed up in elaborate fox costumes and dropped into a field somewhere in Derbyshire (I know this detail is cruel but hey, I'm a bastard). They will be woken by the sound of horns and barking dogs. The fox-hunting toffs get to relive the glory days and we all get vindication. Hilarious, bloodthirsty vindication. The Beeb could even broadcast it live. We'd watch Tess Daly get torn limb from limb whilst dressed as a fox with a live feed in the corner of the screen of Vernon Kay's stupid distraught face, wouldn't we? Of course we would. And when it proves a hit we're one step closer to the logical conclusion of all the celebrity-obsessed reality TV - Celebrity Running Man.

Click "I like this" if you've read this far, because let's be honest, you might as fucking well
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 8:58, 6 replies)

photoshop
because it killed the iconic image
( fudboy high ideals and crazy dreams, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 8:50, 3 replies)

Alan Price - the cost of fame?
Many years ago, whilst in the darkest depths of Oldham studying Theatre Lighting, I had the pleasure of escaping for a whole month from the dreadful mill town, under the guise of "Work Experience". Taking the opportunity by the balls I ran as far away as possible to a small provincial, council run venue, where flat caps, pigeon fancying and ferrets had not been heard of, and had a great time. That is until the third week of my stay. Alan Price, Keyboardist from the Animals (famous for such great tracks as House of the Rising Sun) was on a comeback tour, and was due to visit this lowly playhouse that I had become fond of (anything was preferential to returning back "Oop North"). Many other acts had remarked on Mr. Price and his reputation, having worked in other similar venues straight after him on their respective travels, and said that he was hell to work with. I was not to be put off, and when asked if I fancied running the lights for his concert on my own, I felt on cloud nine - this was to be one of my first ever Pro Concert Lighting jobs, and to work with such a top name was a privilege. How was I to know that the resident Techie, my mentor, was taking the opportunity of having a niave student to keep well out the way of what was going to be an extremely tough night?

The big night arrives, and with it, so does Alan's roadies, and all the gear. But no sign of the headline act himself. His (probably very underpaid) minions set everything up, and I do the same in the lighting box with my tube of Pringles and bottle of Irn Bru... when suddenly from out of the darkness of the wings, and out onto the stage, sweeps the King of Keys, Alan Price... with the opening lines that will remain with me for a long time - "That Keyboard is set at the wrong height, how the F@&£ am I supposed to play that?!?" and storms of stage left, leaving the poor roadies to guess if it was too high or too low. (yes, I know they should know what height to set up the Star's keyboard, but a small amount of politeness normally brings respect... something that I doubt his entouurage had much of for him).

Ten minutes later sees me stood backstage after being summoned to see the man who had already gone down a little in my estimation. He storms up to me (probably still in a foul mood) and exclaims "Your the lighting guy?" (Note no introduction... he probably hasn't got time to remember my name after all) "Just remember, It's MY name on the poster and it's ME they've come to see, so I don't care what you do with the lighting tonight, but as I am the Star of the Show - THERE WILL ALWAYS BE A LIGHT ON ME!" I nod and think 'what an arrogant little tool' as he continues - "Even if you go to blackout".

Well they taught us many things in my first 18 months at college, including the definition of a blackout, but sadly I must have missed the part of the course that instructed us how to talk to jumped up Muso's that hadn't had a hit outside of Greece for two decades, so now being devoid of any feeling of awe towards this organ-ist I replied, "Well, I don't know where you studied Stage Lighting, but it would be extremely difficult to go to Blackout if there is still a light on you... once you've decided which it is, I'll be in the lighting box" and walked off leaving him looking like Simon Smith's pet, and a couple of his roadies grinning like Cheshire cats.

I never did find out what he preferred, and have never listened to H-o-t-R-S since.

Apologies for length, but it's shorter than his concert...which should have been cut short at the first note.

Be kind to me I'm a newbie (after lurking and laughing for about 12 months)
(Nozirrah turned left instead of right and ended up here on, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 8:39, 3 replies)

very late entry... But sharon osbourne.
She has the cheek to label others bad parents on that stupid chat show of hers, when two of her kids have been in and out of rehab, and the third practically disowned you, because you decided to let cameras film every aspect of your pointless lives.

And everything your kids produce is shite. And your drug addled husband.
(The Kwyjibo A big, dumb, balding North American ape., Thu 11 Feb 2010, 8:33, Reply)

Hugh Grant
Famous nonentity. It's hard to hate a void, but if Nature can abhor a vacuum, so can I.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 8:10, Reply)

Person X.
What a cunt. Need I say more?
( The Coast Of Yemen, Thu 11 Feb 2010, 7:59, 1 reply)