It occurred to me the other day that the brand new leaf of 2008 was the ideal moment to pray for the removal of many serious irritants from this mortal plane. With that in mind, and because various reserves of fury have been building up in me for a while now, I present to you Big Al's list of people I'd like to see end their lives unpleasantly at some point this year.
People Who Say 'Does What It Says On The Tin'
What 'tin'? There is no goddamn 'tin'. Unless you're referring to something that does actually come in a tin, like soup (which stops you from being hungry) or Ronseal (who unwittingly introduced this meaningless phrase into the language) then using this phrase makes you sound idiotic. Music, clothes, books, events – any aspect of the modern world that incorporates features of its title, in recent months we've been asked to believe it "does what it says on the tin"' These things do not come in a tin. Before you know it, we'll be referring to people this way, as in "my mother does what it says on the tin". Then we'll have to start keeping relatives in tins. I don't want to live in that world.
Scouting For Girls
'She's so luv-er-ly, she's so luv-er-ly….'
'Elvis isn't dead, Elvis isn't dead, Elvis isn't dead…'
The worst new pop band in the country, having overtaken talentless Freddy Mercury impersonator Mika in the irritant stakes, Scouting For Girls are the musical equivalent of that alcoholic in the pub who won't stop talking to you. They need to be killed, and quickly.
Social Networking Spammers
I've got a comment, and yes! It's someone I've never heard of, and his / her friend has written something nasty about me on their blog apparently, and to find out what it says I should just click on this handy link! Because obviously they know who I am and care enough to mention me on their weblog, and it's definitely not just a way of downloading some nasty virus into my PC and YES! I really am that stupid!
Boris Johnson
Not because I particularly care whether he lives or dies, but if Boris did expire you know it would be in some entertaining and hilarious way, like being pecked to death by wrens or falling down a well while campaigning to be Mayor (which should provide some amusement in '08 whatever happens, particularly considering his only policy thus far is "to put a smile back on Londoners' faces". I'm assuming that means free mood-altering drugs for everyone). Militant pro-life campaigners may, however, be interested to note that this incorrigible philanderer imposed not one, but two abortions on his first mistress….
The Entire Cast & Crew Of 'Top Gear'
It's getting old now lads, that whole cavalcade of bigoted masculinity along with Jeremy Clarkson's secret desire to fellate the exhaust pipe of a beamer or whatever the hell they're spunking over this week. Apart from the pathetic nature of fetishising objects (it's a car! it gets you places! stroke it!) we now know that these men are responsible for a large portion of the planet's climate change worries with their moronic antics. Any ethical government (i.e. one I'm in charge of) would have them all executed immediately, although kudos to Richard 'Gere' Hammond for attempting to kickstart my purge on himself, he really ought to try again.
Anyone Who Uses The Phrase "End Of"
Because straight away it proves they're not the listening type, stopping the discussion on whatever spurious point they've just made and unwilling to brook further opinions. And grammatically, what's that all about anyway? 'End of' what? 'End of…' intelligent conversation? 'End of….' people tolerating you? I prefer to think of it as the 'End of…' your life. And soon.
Art Brut
Long-time readers of this blog will know my opinion of these smug chancers who have somehow managed to trick gullible American alternative types into thinking they add up to much beyond a smirking public schoolboy fronting an unmemorable pub-rock band. Adding to the insult of their continuing existence, last year Art Brut toured the States with my current favourite band (The Hold Steady). Luckily the popularity of this terrible novelty act is already waning, but in 2008 I'm still praying for their tourbus to plunge off a cliff somewhere near Colorado with no survivors. That'll learn 'em.
Charity Muggers
Have you been walking down a high street recently, only to get assaulted by fresh-faced scumbags in fluorescent tops who are in the way and trying to convince you to pledge hard-earned cash for some kind of major charity? In fact, most of the money donated goes straight into their pockets, so you're effectively paying these leeches to bother you. Any intelligent person donates through subscriptions or the internet, in fact you'd have to be quite green to think a fifteen-minute conversation with a student wielding a clipboard in the middle of a busy street is the best way to give something back to the world. That's why the only people they manage to stop tend to be foreign exchange students, lonely immigrants and the mentally subnormal. These muggers prey on the weak and naïve, much like child molesters. Ship them to a remote island I say.
Zane Lowe
What makes me hate this man so deeply is not the fact that he's clearly a thick jock or his radio manner pretending enthusiasm for every record in that fake Radio 1 manner. It's not even the way interviews he conducts turn into discussions around his own self-obsession. No, I want Zane dead because he's working in a genre of music I grew up with and still enjoy. Which makes me similar to the twat in one way. And I really resent that.
'The Noughties'
I cannot believe some people still refer to this decade with such a terrible pun. There are hundreds of perfectly adequate alternatives ('the zeroes', 'the ohs', 'the first ten years of the 21st century' if brevity isn't your thing, man). Using this label makes you sound like the kind of nudge-nudge wink-wink cretin who wishes real life were more like a Carry On film. Stop it.
French & Saunders (the show)
They can both live (for now) but just imagine what a 'Bucket of French & Saunders' would actually look like – a dirty, metal pail overflowing with middle-aged flab and unfunniness. This pair of 'comediennes' have been putting out weak pastiches of contemporary movies my entire life in the pursuit of cheap laughs. And TV licence payers like you and I are paying for their pies!
Osama Bin Laden
Yes, he's a bad man, and the intermittent video diaries are becoming increasingly predictable ('death to the Western infidel', blah, blah, blah…) but the real reason Ossy should be in his grave is to stop the U.S. and Britain holding him up as the boogeyman and scaring voters to justify further military adventures. All figureheads for jihad (as well as lame ducks on the opposite side who exploit that) need to be extinguished, once and for all.
Fleet Town F.C. and All Their Supporters
Just because they're unpleasant. And really bad losers.
Further suggestions welcome, and remember kids – "release your hate, it's who you are".