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*slap* There’s nothing like watching the force and pent up release of a decent slap. I say watching, because you don’t want to be on the receiving end of one.
And this montage has them in abundance, in all their manifest forms, from the hard and fast, to the more delicate and playful. No E. Honda though. Shame.
What’s going on here? Oh nothing much, just Elmo impersonating Smeagol while the Joker has his hand up Elmo’s butt.
Precisely. It’s what you call talent, OK so it’s a little weird, the sort of thing an LSD-binge sweaty comedown sleep might produce, but talent nonetheless.
This fascinating programme is teaching Americans the strange and peculiar practices of the UK justice system. Behold! The pompous judges in their 18th century attire.
The tea-whiskey they drink while shouting “Guilty!” at Dickensian children who live in chimneys and wear clothes made from soot. Those Brits are double rainbow crazy. Watch this show while shouting “Cor blimey guvner, mother-dye chicken eyebrow!!!” at the top of your lungs.
Have you heard about that new movie coming out with Natalie Portman, where she’s a ballet dancer who loses her mind? Yeah, me neither. But there is one and it’s got a Portman/Mila Kunis cud-munching scene.
Starting to sound a little more intriguing now, huh? Well, don’t bother going to see it, got that sex scene for you right here. How’s that for money saving ideas over the festive season? Happy perving.
When you’ve just made the beast with two backs, done some horizontal jogging, played hide the sausage, then you want the world to know about it, right?
And what better way to express your virility than to put that hot love action into a song and shout it from the rooftops; let your friends know, your parents, your wife.
Way to ruin your macho reputation Mr Putin. Usually he walks into a room and grown Hulks start whimpering with fear, and now he’s playing “Blueberry Hill” on the piano. Go. Figure.
What next, is he going to set up an orphanage for abandoned kittens, while nursing baby pandas on his pale white teats? I wonder if he takes requests, cos I’d sure like to see his rendition of Tina Turner’s “Simply the Best”.
So, it now seems the iPad is the musical instrument du jour for the discerning pop star about town. And playing live? Forget using a stage, that was so 1998.
Now it’s all about an impromptu gig at your local mobile phone retailer, preferably you have a friend who works there and can grant you access to the iPad store cupboard. More street than concrete!
Even superheroes can be a total git at times. They go around blowing stuff up, usually no one cares because it’s Gotham City, and we all know they’ve got bags of money so they can rebuild it ten times over, but when they go around blowing up Ken Barlow’s local. Well.
And not just blowing up the pub either but letting Commissioner Gordon use the Tumbler to completely wreck a fictional town in Greater Manchester, destroying the inhabitant’s lives. You wouldn’t get Superman doing that. Shame on you Bruce. Shame on you.
