Great British patriot @piersmorgan (yes, the one who falsified images of abuse in one of those stupid wars we’re fighting, thus endangering lives of British troops) is complaining that Chris Hoy, et al, aren’t singing the national anthem. And that we should be like those fine Chinese patriots who belt out their anthem at gunpoint every morning.

Unfortunately for patriotic Piers (yes, the one who loves his country so much he lives in the USA), our national anthem is shite. It’s about God (who doesn’t exist) and The Queen.

Fortunately for our athletes, I’ve been thinking of an anthem that doesn’t amount to “Will a vengeful omnipotent iron age father figure please make sure that our ruling classes get to stay smug and superior.”

And it’s one the whole country can rally behind. Tune’s the same, so after me…

“Someone Slap Piers”

We all wish harm on Piers,
Why can’t he fall down the stairs?
Someone slap Piers

(nar-nana-nar)

He is an awful man,
Lied ‘bout Afghanistan
Won’t someone stop this man?
Someone slap Piers.

When he’s not hacking phones
He won’t leave footballers alone
All the charisma of a stone
Someone slap Piers

He’s a smug gurning twat
And he’s getting rather fat
We’re all sick of this prat
Someone slap Piers.

Athangyew.

Tonight, you brave, stout fellows, the hopes and fears of an entire nation go with you.

What you can accomplish tonight will echo through eternity as the greatest achievement in the history of English football - finally laying to rest years of hurt beyond counting.

I know relations between us haven’t always been cordial. There have been slurs, confusion and anger, because of your lifestyles, inability to use the English language properly and the fact that some of you are horrible, horrible racists.

But tonight, as England take on Sweden, we can put all that to rights. We can come together as one, and achieve something special. Something that will make football that little bit better for everyone.

Gentlemen. It is all down to you. Make sure you defend solidly, keeping the enemy out. And should the chance present itself, attack fiercely, and accept no quarter nor surrender.

Tonight England expects that every florescent jacket-wearing Ukrainian steward does his duty. Keep them out, sirs.

Ban the Band.

In an EXCLUSIVE interview, mega-beaked geriatric Colin “Neil Warnock” Wanker names his Leeds United starting XI for 2012/13

1: Andy Longergan in a Paddy Kenny mask

I needed a pair of hands I can trust. But Paddy’s changed his number and taken out a restraining order. Luckily though, Ken gave me an old Sheff Utd programme and a pound for the photocopier.

2: The Radebe Suite
3: Billy’s Bar
5: The East Stand Boxes
6: The Pavillion

We needed someone as safe as houses at the back. So me and Ken, we splashed out on some buildings. They’re like houses, aren’t they?

4: Michael “Browny” Brown
8: Michael “Browny” Brown’s Nurse
10: Pugh

I’ve been a fan of Browny since he kicked that stupid horse in the 1938 cup final, so I was always going to retain his services this season. Especially because Shaun Derry throws eggs at me when I go round his house. But he’s not as sprightly as he used to be, so we got him a nurse. She’ll hold his blanket and point at the players he needs to assault.

Of course, with Brown providing the steel, we need some guile. Danny Pugh said he’d be able to fill in though, until we find some.

7: Snoddy
11: Ben Fry

I promised to keep Snoddy as our star winger, and I did.

I mean, we sold Robert Snodgrass to Norwich to pay for the Ken Bates statue and my nippy new electric wheelchair, but I was at a Slade tribute gig and their frontman Snoddy Holder looked alright.

Anyway, I’ll be trying to avoid the ball touching the floor in midfield, so we needed someone who’s used to everything going over his head. Ben seemed like the natural choice.

9: Diouf

Ha, sorry about that. My little joke. It’ll probably be Becchio or something. Unless Norwich want him too. Is it time for Countdown yet?

Shower of hopeless bastards

1) Lonergan - Can catch, can’t kick
2) Connolly - Hopeless, clueless Scouse chancer
3) Kisnorbo - Is he dead yet?
4) Bruce - Dont. Let. It. Bounce.
5) O’Brien - Hopefully goodbye then, shitbag
6) Rogers - Dead before his time
7) Gradel - I miss you Max
7) Varynen - Erm… And you were?
8) Brown - Borderline psychotic octogenerian carthorse
9) Paynter - Like a weeping clown
10) Becchio - Dog chasing a beachball
11) Sam - Stay at Notts County
12) Rachubka - Haunts all my nightmares
14) Howson - I loved you Jonny
15) Clayton - Started well, went shit
16) Pugh - Poor man’s Andy Hughes
18) Forssell - You were a footballer?
20) Nunez - Teeny tiny latino donkey
21) McCarthy - Cheers for the penalty
22) Lees - Smile, you miserable bastard
23) Snodgrass - You’re our only hope
24) Taylor - What was the point?
25) Webber - How’d you miss that?
26) Bromby - Long throw. Nowt else.
27) Somma - Probably dead by now
28) White - Fast, but still shite
29) Thompson - Never gonna make it
30) Cairns - Marginally better than Rachubka
33) Robinson - Should’ve signed the keeper
38) Keogh - Forgot you’d played here
44) McCormack - Liked the overhead kick
48) O’Dea - More like ‘Oh Dear’

Simon Grayson - Au Revoir Mr. Scapegoat
Neil Redfearn - Thanks for that, Redders
Neil Warnock - Record breaker! (slow clap)

Ken Bates - Fuck off and die.

Not renewing next year.

What would you expect from a performance about a man who drapes his kettle in tinsel, is awarded RPG-style experience points from a dishrack, and talks to the goblins in his carpet?

An amusing piece of absurdist comedy? A deeply affecting personal drama? Or recitations of modern performance poetry?

With Wizard, you’ll get all three.

Wizard tells the story of the eponymous Wizard (Dominic Berry), his upstairs neighbour (“Man”, played by Ben Jewell) and a cast of talking appliances. Bored to tears by his thankless day job, Man finds himself increasingly drawn into Wizard’s wonderful world of magic, tea and poetry.

What follows is a touching, funny tale of computer games, feline flatulence and the horror of Yorkshire Tea.

But before long the laughs dry up, to be replaced by nervous and stark, shocked silence.

Because what starts off as a piece celebrating the absurdity of life’s ‘characters’ and their triumph over mundanity takes a dark, distressing and surprisingly violent turn.

In his first acting role, award-winning poet Dominic Berry puts forward a charming, terrifying and entirely believable turn as a character that could easily have descended into parody. And his abrupt gear change when Wizard’s whimsical mask slips to reveal the troubled individual underneath is completely and utterly arresting.

But it’s Ben Jewell’s versatility that adds a sense of scale to the show. Playing characters as diverse as well-meaning social workers and menopausal kettles - as well as his grounded and touching portrayal of Man, Jewell provides Wizard with a scope that should be beyond a two man cast.

Wizard isn’t a show for the faint-hearted. Is isn’t always a pleasant experience for the audience, and it doesn’t shy away from the realities of mental illness.

But Wizard will entertain you. Wizard will make you think. Wizard will not, ever, “f**king patronise you.”

It’s touring in May. Go watch it.

Wizard - written by Dominic Berry (with additional material by Dave Viney)
Performed by Dominic Berry and Ben Jewell

Coming Dates:

The Cockpit, Gateforth Street, Marylebone, London, NW8 8EH
Tue 1 - Wed 2 May. 7.30pm. Tickets: £10/6
Booking: thecockpit.org.uk  / 020 7258 2925

ACE Centre, Cross Street, Nelson, BB9 7NN
Thur 3 May. 6.30pm. Tickets: £8/4 
Booking: acecentre.co.uk / 01282 661 080

Oxford University, Corpus Christ College, Merton Street, OX1 4JF
Thur 10 May. 8pm. Tickets: £7/5
Booking: tickets available from the venue on the night

It appears that a growing number of people have decided to use words for the (seemingly) sole purpose of sounding like an absolute dickhead.

This needs to stop.

So please, if you use any of these all-too-common phrases, reconsider:

Random

“OH-EMM-GEE, that’s so random”

What it means: Having no specific pattern, purpose, or objective

What you think it means: Funny. Occasionally surreal.

The Mighty Boosh isn’t random. It’s a scripted TV show. That’s the opposite of random. The Mighty Boosh is surreal and funny.

iPhone

“Yeah, let me just check my iPhone”

What it means: Nothing. It’s a brand name. It’s a way of attatching a pretentious label to an everyday item.

What you think it means: Everything. It’s important that EVERYONE knows that you don’t just have a phone. You have an iPhone!

You’re answering your phone. You’re checking your phone. Continually using a brand name makes you sound like a dickhead.

Inbox Me

“Inbox me, yeah?”

What it means: Nothing. Fuck off.

What you think it means: Send me an email/message/text/carrier pigeon. Fuck off.

Fuck off. Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off. Fuck. Off.

Fuck off.

Bear with me on this one. Because I’m fantastically, amazingly, stupendously right about this.

The next Doctor, be it Matt Smith’s replacement, or the canonically-dubious movie Doctor should be none other than shouting madman BRIAN BLESSED.

His costume should be an exact replica of that dress that Bjork wore that time. You know? The swan-looking one?

And here’s the kicker. The dress is also the companion. Voiced by Damon Albarn. And for some reason, despite it being a sentient (alien?) swan dress, Blessed-Doctor insists on calling it “Goose”. At stupendously loud volume.

And he doesn’t have a magic wand sonic screwdriver either. Actually, that should go for the next Doctor no matter who he/she/sentient-swan-dress is.

Someone photoshop this. Now.