Waking up to a breakfast of lightly grilled kippers, a medley of wholemeal cereals, a cup of black decaffeinated coffee and a hosepipe connected to a septic tank filled with Jamaican overproof rum, I take up a selection of music periodicals and read that Burial, the noted dubstep artist, has "outed" himself as one Will Bevan, following a campaign to reveal his identity by Gordon Smart of The Sun, who suspected Burial might be a nom de plume for Fatboy Slim or The Aphex Twin. However, Bevan had already been outed by The Independent some months ago.
Well, roast my f***ing haemorrhoids and call me Clitface, it turns out that Will Bevan is none other than Will Bevan, the sort of dead-eyed streak of of f***ing acne in a hoodie you can’t throw a f***ing brick on South London without hitting! Who says that three months of barking up several f***ing wrong trees like a twatfaced, clueless f***ing twonk wouldn’t pay off for the best and brightest journalist on Britain’s best and brightest paper? Nothing gets past you does it, Gordon, unless it happens to be printed in bold type in a national daily f***ing newspaper! "Gordon Smart"! That’s the most inappropriate f***ing name since the f***ing German Chancellor changed from his original name of Adolf Likesjews! What’s next, Gordon? Dame Edna Everage Not Actually A Woman But Damon Albarn In Disguise Shock? Who else but a f***ing ignorant, incompetent shitehawk who couldn’t find his way to f***ing page three of his own f***ing newspaper without help from the f***ing intern would even embark on a f***ing campaign like this? How did you even get a job at the f***ing Sun, involving as it surely did mentally challenging tasks like opening doors and finding a chair seat with your f***ing arse? You are, truly, a triple-barrelled little c***wart!
Morrissey’s new album on Polydor, entitled Years Of Refusal, has been put back for six months until 2009. No explanation has been given for the delay.
Well, not that I could give a f***ing gnat’s stool, since I won’t actually be listening to the album until roughly 16 centuries after the Sahara Desert has been officially closed down due to f***ing sand shortages, but you have to wonder, why the f***ing delay, Mozzer? The lentils for the f***ing album
launch reception taking longer than you expected to come to the f***ing boil? A last minute decision to send out pre-release copies of the f***ing album to your many black friends, to see if they had any last-minute fine tuning suggestion as to how to enhance the album’s appeal among your numerous African-Caribbean fans? Waiting for the momentum of public interest in Morrissey, still a long way from peaking, to reach runaway train proportions? Stale old wank, thy name is f***ing Morrissey! Silly c***! If sea levels do rise, I hope it’s due to unsold copies of your f***ing album having to be dumped over the side of a f***ing enormous boat chartered by f***ing Polydor!
Finally, it seems that Slipknot have revealed their latest set of masks, their most "terrifying" to date according to sources. Motifs on the masks including needles, a Christ-style crown of thorns and zipped mouths.
Well, just the very thought of that’s causing diarrhoea to course hotly in the direction of my f***ing sphincter even as I type! The fact that they’re taking their inspiration from the puppets on f***ing Rainbow certainly makes me palpitate with f***ing dread! I’ll tell you what’s f***ing terrifying – that there are kids in this world whose brains are so unfeasibly f***ing shrunken, so addled and f***ing cretinized, so incapable of outdoing a dead termite in a battle of f***ing wits, that they’d opt to listen to Slipknot rather than f***ing chew dried cement! f***ing Slipknot! The Calvalcade of unmitigated f***ing Twatitude trundles on across the f***ing Moronama that is the American pop landscape! C***s!
