Waking up to a light breakfast of organic bran, Fairtrade banana and grape medley, poached quail’s eggs, lukewarm green tea and a gallon bottle of the late Oliver Reed’s urine stored for two decades in my cellars, I consume the repast, set aside my tray and turn my attention to the latest developments in the world of pop and rock, including the all-important battle for the number one spot between Florence & The Machine’s album Lungs and American combo Vampire Weekend’s Contra.
Jumping f***ing Jesus piggybacking on the f***ing Virgin Mary, this is worse than the f***ing Brown-Cameron face-off in the tosser/even bigger tosser stakes! F***ing Florence? I have leaked pus from f***ing running sores with more to it than this unscrupulously worthless, ambitious f***ing goop, clearly shat out of some f***ing upper middle class f***ing talent academy! Have you heard her sing? She makes f***ing Dido sound like Bessie Smith! Homeopathic f***ing Kate Bush for a generation of f***ing sated, texted out f***ing cretins lobotomised by the f***ing attritional effects of late capitalism, silly little twats! Vampire Weekend? How they f*** did these superfluous, skinny c***s rise from the bottom of the f***ing seabed of the ocean of useless piss? If you want to live in f***ing 1979 at least don’t live in its f***ing shittiest bits, you Strokes-lite f***ing whimsy whores!
Slayer, the thrash titans of note who have been purveying their particular brand of propulsive heavy metal since the 1980s and are now advancing towards a certain age, have had to cancel a further UK date, it has been announced, since front man Tom Arraya put his back out recently.
You know, fellers, you’ve had an absurdly f***ing long f***ing innings, not least owing to the fact that you’re being bowled to by a set of fans who can f***ing drool further than they can throw the f***ing ball! But it’s clear that the ravages of throwing too many f***ing metal salutes is taking its toll on your hairy f***ing bodies! Face it, you pock-marked, arsefaced old c***s, look to the future – no more Nazi esoterica, serial killers, pentagrams and f***ing weapons of mass destruction for you! Look forward to a new world of f***ing foul smelling ointments, diapers, endless conversations about how they charge 10 cents for carrier bags and spending most of your f***ing days in your dressing gowns watching f***ing rednecks argue on f***ing daytime TV! You’re getting old, and no one deserved to get old more than you rank, overripe arseholes!
Finally, diminutive facially tattooed New Orleans rapper Lil Wayne is to release an album on the day he goes into prison, on charges of possession of a weapon. He has previously also been arrested on drugs charges, involving marijuana.
Hahaha, you silly little tosser! You’re like f***ing Christmas to the police, you f***ing know that? The world’s f***ing easiest bust! F***ing arrest quota fodder! All they have to do is roll past your f***ing house any time, find you lying in the f***ing spilt remains of a f***ing bag of dope, too stoned to f***ing move, cuff you, throw you in the back of the f***ing wagon, job done! You’re a f***ing fish in a barrel! They start off new recruits on f***ing idiotic, inert c***s like you, before they move onto the more challenging stuff like figuring out how the f***ing coffee machine works! And I’ll f***ing tell you what, it’s as well that they f***ing arrested you for possession of that gun, because believe me, a weed-addled f***ing halfwit waste of a f***ing vest like you, it was only a matter of time before you discharged the f***er while it was in your trouser pocket and shot your f***ing bollocks off! Being too stupid, as well as too f***ing short’s nothing to f***ing brag about, you calamitous little c***wart!
