Everything is a remix; you, me, all those films you love. And especially Star Wars. Oh my. After watching this you’ll wonder if there was an original idea in the whole first (fourth, whatever) film.

Old Georgie Porgie was walking around in his long, dark emperor’s cloak rubbing his warm, fat Ewok paws together randomly pointing at various movies in his collection and growling excitedly at every one of them. Stealing that scene from there, this scene from that, lifting that character from this and on and on until he had his movie. Easy. And as for Kill Bill, it’s basically the movie equivalent of a mash-up.

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Forget the alphabet song, it’s time for your favourite film characters to educate you on this standardised set of letters that go to make up the English language. From Arnie through to Zed’s dead baby.

You’re probably already pretty familiar with them, otherwise you won’t really be able to understand what this set of obscure symbols mean that go to make up a grammatical unit of language known as a sentence.

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It can be so confusing distinguishing between UK, Great Britain, and England. So probably the best way to do this is by the yellowing of their teeth and how Dickensian their accents are. The teeth come in various shades of yellow.

Putrid yellow means their English and they’ll probably ask you for a penny farthing for supper with a cup of hot cholera, guvnor. Great British means their teeth will be the colour of warm piss with breath like cancer. If they’re from the UK their teeth are the colour of nicotine with hair like a cesspit. Or you could watch this video, which is probably more accurate.

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Just because you’re bald and old, and your wife looks like a gremlin doesn’t mean you can’t bust some moves on the dance floor and show those young ‘uns how to have a good time.

This guy’s got all the moves; the spirit fingers, the twirling the missus, the rolling hands, the wave your arms over your head like a fairy with broken wings. Legend.

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Well, it’s only taken four years for a metal version of this to come out. But, sometimes, it’s worth the wait. So grab your air guitar, turn the volume all the way up to eleven , kick over the air amp and let’s rawk!

This song needs to be added to the next edition of Guitar Hero so we can all enjoy some of this badassery. For those about to rock, we mosh you.

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A truly momentous occasion that, really, warrants an international holiday. So we could all be at home getting handjobs; men and women, all creeds and colours, rich and poor, tall and short, ugly and beautiful, bespectacled and despectacled.

But, no. Ah well, at least you can have your own little celebration of Dr. Fred Gilgoff’s incredible invention. A man more important than Einstein, Newton, even Ronald McDonald.

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Posts on Facebook ruining your life? Maybe not now when you’re young and carefree but when you want that top job at Goldman Sachs selling the blood of innocents for The Man then you won’t be so cool about it.

The solution? Post more. And more. Post all the time every day, all day, all year until you post so much you’ve not seen daylight in eons and you look like Howard Hughes’s toe nails at his most reclusive. Then they’ll never find your celebratory posts about poking the Duchess of Cornwall with a stick.

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You know how in Japan they always have to be just ahead of the curve, like with their flying robots and talking buildings and anime characters for president and all that. Well a three-legged race is like eating dry toast to them.

So, they get 31 children, tie their legs together and watch them race. If you thought your sports day was cool, then Japan just pwnd it.

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