Top of the Pops New Years Eve

I've written that title just as they have on the TV listing; no need for commas, dashes, or any other punctuation when you have offcuts from the dried old turkey you served us up on Christmas day to try and stuff down our neck again. It's all new stuff? Don't kid a kidder.
Oh yeah, here's Girls Aloud. At least they're doing the one with a tune this time. I mean, it has a tune compared to the other one, not to something actually with a tune.
So, I have to tell you, I'm not going out tonight. My boyfriend is working, my best friend is pregnant, and other offers haven't exactly been flying in (can't think why). So here's what I'm gonna do: get up at 7am when my boyfriend gets in and celebrate New Year then. We'll probably have midnight about midday. So I'll be tucked up before any fireworks go off tonight. I'll tape all the rubbish TV, shut the curtains and just watch it all tomorrow. It could be a LONG day. Or a short, messy one.
Anyway, less about my personal life, here's Ellie Goulding. Was she on the Xmas day show? I don't remember seeing her enormous face there. An undercut does not a popstar make. Oh, she's forgotten to put her trousers on like Arg in the live TOWIE (disclaimer: I do not watch TOWIE, just watched 5 minutes to see what the hoo ha was about). ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN! sings Ellie. Except for the BBC being called into account for aiding and abetting a paedophile for a few decades. And a decent song coming on this TOTP. Apart from those two things, anything could happen.
I'm drinking and eating chocolate now, so I guess NYE has begun, even if it's my stunted little gnarled version of it. Just spoke to my best friend on the phone and she's going to bed now because she's got to get up at 4am to go to work, so things could be worse. Her boyfriend is staying in too. We're a useless lot!
LOL, Script dude who looks like Peter Andre is talking in an American accent. This song made me bellow with laughter the first and only time I heard it before this. You can be an astronaut... it's like this prick and Will.i.am are your primary school careers advisor. Go work in a call centre instead. Is Willy going to beam in? Hologram? Or just a sick note? YOU CAN BE A CHAMPION. 'Be truth seekers' is my favourite line. Has William been going on about UFOs again? Don't go to McDonalds with him, he nearly did a Brian Harvey on Cheryl Cole last time. If you like this song, go to the doctors. Your marbles have fallen out.
They are mentioning some singers who died this year. Don't suppose I should make a joke about that. Jubilee; blah, lizard queen, blah. Next. I want to say something funny about Reggie and Fearne but there's nothing to say. They're so bland they make my humour chip dry up.
Oh Christ, it's pop's sourest female talent judge, Tulisa. Who is writing her tweets? She's completely illiterate. Is it OK for her to make death threats etc on there? Good example! That and the bag snatching. Great choice of the new 'nations sweetheart', Simon. This song is equally catchy and annoying like Saturday Night by Whigfield. This isn't her sort of music. Where's the URBAN? Louis Walsh is going to turn on, think that's urban, and get all confused and unnecessary. I went to Ibiza this year and playing in the clubs were Tulisa, Kaiser Chiefs and Sting. And here ends that sentence.
Next up, the Macabees. These do seem to be different bands to who were on the Xmas day show, well except Girls Aloud. Who are the Macabees? Have I even spelt that right? The Macabees, The Vaccines, Ed Sheeran, it's all just music for people who don't like music, not like that good stuff we used to have, like Marion and Mansun and Menswear. Not sure this guy's hair is naturally jet black. His barnet is like Nick Cave meets Steve McDonald. Now there's a collision Street Cars aren't insured for. Maca-blees. Imagine going to their gig? I'd rather go to Tulisa's. NEXT!
Now for Taylor Swift, who's not really there. This song is catchy, catchier than a zombie virus. I put in the same box as that Call Me Maybe bullshit. You'll be singing it later, but you'll want to stab yourself in the eye for it. I can never quite get over her teeth. She looks like Bugs Bunny. I know they've got dentists in America, because they did Brandon's veneers, right? Does anyone REALLY believe she's fucking Harry Styles? That kid's got more beards than a Father Christmas convention. It makes me sick the way magazines sexualise One Direction. THEY ARE CHILDREN. They might be barely legal but it's still fucking sick. The talking bit in this song makes me cringe, too. 'I was like, whatever.' Yeah, whatever, Taylor, stop sleeping around, who do you think you are, Rhianna? Of course, it's alright for Harry Styles, because he's a man, and he's gay anyway, so it's not really happening. Come back Jonas Brothers, all is forgiven. I do like the Breaking Bad parody of this song, though, and it makes me go 'ooh, Heisenberg' whenever I hear it, so it's not all nuclear war and famine.
Who the fuck are Stooshy? Stooshe?! Is that Emile Sande again, smuggling herself back in under false pretences. 'Daddy, I'm falling for a monster, he's scaring me to death, he's big and he's bad, he's the best I've ever had'. Please tell me I just hallucinated those lyrics. Fuck, I'm going to have to pause and go and get a vodka. Is this like a doo wop song about domestic violence? These lyrics are creepier than 'He hit me and it felt like a kiss'. Plus, why would you tell your parents 'he's the best I ever had'? TMI! Need to know basis! One just screeched at the end 'he got a dirty black heart'. There's probably an explicit version of this song. This is fucked in the head. Agog.
Next up, Tiny 'he's got so many clothes he keeps some at his aunt's house' Tempah and Calvin 'boring' Harris. This is dance music for people too thick to work out how to find where any proper dance music resides online. 'Tonight we're drinking from the bottle!' Yeah, probably other people's. At least Tiny seems to have a sense of humour, what with those clothes and everything. Calvin (worst popstar name ever) just seems to have got lost on his way to accounts. What a knob twiddler. This song is making me SO GLAD I'm not going out tonight. People. Tubes. Music. Urgh. Just pass the valium and let's sleep through the lot of it.
Next up is Arlissa, or Shakira with no trousers on, if you prefer. I don't.
Oh fucking hell, it's Robbie Williams again. Thanks for making the last part of 2012 unbearable, you fat odious fuckface. He also ruined the first few seconds of the new Millennium for me, as the club I was in (Passion!) played a dance version of, you guessed it, Millennium. Motherfuckers. Oh well, his lyrics are always a good laugh. He looks jaundiced. Hopefully he's dying. I know it sounds harsh, but if it was him or Gary hanging off a cliff, you know who you'd save. You know!
What has he got in his hand? Is he conducting? Imagine being in Robbie Williams' backing band. You'd honestly be better off working in an abattoir, wouldn't you? It would be less morally abhorrent.
This song doesn't even have any funny lyrics, it's just blahblahblahblah. Go fish those bodies out of the Bodhi tree, you fucking tortoise.
Ah, finally. I like this Rita Ora song. I never used to admit I liked any pop music, this year I've actually confessed to a few guilty pleasures. My boyfriend likes Diamonds by Rhianna but only the 'shine bright like a diamond' backing bit. Rita's looking a bit more presentable tonight, but still a bit like she's wearing a 6-year-old's quilt cover. Rita. It's not exactly a rock and roll name, is it? Next up, it's Mavis with Deathsticks!
Next up are the Rizzle Kicks. I've got a bad feeling about this. I thought Rizzle Kicks was a person, like Dizzie Rascal. Oh Lord, there's a onesie, and a Burberry scarf. Mama do the hump? Fuck off.
And now James Arthur is back again, reanimated. Have they fixed his teeth yet? No, it's just the same performance they showed on Christmas Day. Oh, so he did finally get to number one. Knocked those poor dead children off the top spot did you, hey, Cowell? I hope you're pleased with yourself. Happy New Year, you bastard.

Top of the Pops Christmas 2012

Well here we are with Exitainment's inaugural Christmas TOTP blog and I hope Fearne and Reggie are going to give a full apology at the start of the show. No not for Jimmy Savile, but for the appalling music coming up.
Oh Christ, I hate it when they tell me what's next, it makes me despair. First up, Robbie Williams. My boyfriend insists this song is Ring of Roses. Oh, he even says it. This is entirely tuneless. This fat cunt can't sing a note. Has he been smoking crack? I'd rather watch Gary Barlow duet with Christopher Maloney again. My boyfriend said Gary co-wrote this as 'industrial sabotage'. The audience looks like a bad hen do, it's like they've made sure everyone's over 40 in case of any misunderstandings. I can safely say that's the worst Robbie Williams song ever released. It makes Rudebox sound like Everyday is like Sunday.
So, Call Me Maybe is rubbish except for the chorus. Did anyone order a female Justin Beiber? Take it back, then. The audience are too old to have heard of this song, but at least no one will get molested, except maybe Carly Rae thingybob.
Conor Maynard is like an uglier Justin Beiber, if that was possible. I don't know who this little prick is, but he's got a very punchable face. He looks like Toby Maguire pre-plastic surgery. This is completely TUNELESS. FUCK OFF. This has gone on about 5 minutes longer than it should have.
My boyfriend is shocked they've not changed the logo or renamed it TOTPv2 or something. They truly are shameless. Fearne: apologise immediately. On your knees. Reggie, keep your hands in your pockets.
Paloma Faith is just a walking car boot sale on legs. Why is she dragging Michael Hutchence's dead body out of the closet for Christmas? Let Peaches and Astile enjoy Christmas in peace. I didn't know Paloma thing even sang, I thought she just made a career out of getting on 'worst dressed' lists. That personality is completely put on, too. I've seen more authentic Ray-Bien sunglasses.
My boyfriend: 'Is Fearne pregnant?' No, she's just gobbled up a passing baby.
Sam and the Womp? Have I missed something? Has Bjork fallen on hard times? Ali G has turned up in his Jim'll fix it tracksuit, that's in poor taste. I have never heard this song before in my life. Hopefully I'll never hear it again. You have to respect a fringe that short, though. Please get that trumpet off my screen. Come back 2 Unlimited, all is forgiven.
Oh fuck, someone's reanimated Florence. She isn't dead? Why does she look like that, then? I'd rather be locked in a room and forced to listen to Enya for three weeks than listen to this bullshit. Where's the machine? Probably keeping an old lady alive over Christmas. Anyone who likes this kind of music will be first against the wall in my new world order. How old is Florence now? 26? In dog years, maybe.
Coldplay are being beamed in from a nuclear bunker. Apple's gone a bit mad with the magic markers. There's an elephant in the room: it ain't the only one! This song is shit. My boyfriend has just hid his head under a blanket.
Next up: Girls Aloud. Watch them not show Sarah Harding's face once cos its too busted. Kimberley is my favourite. This song is boring. The other one they've got out is better. There's a lot of ombré on that stage. 'I'm beautiful cos you love me'. You're dumped. What now? Girl power!
Has Rita Ora sorted out her fashion sense since X Factor? She's going 'huh!' like Jessie J. She's got foil pyjamas on. Also unflattering. Stick her in the oven. I like one of her songs. Not this one, though. Still, now we've got her, can we drown Jessie J?
What is 'rudimental feat John Newman'? What sort of music is this? He looks like some prick off Towie. He sounds like he's got a frog in his throat. Now someone in a Christmas jumper is playing a trumpet. Makes you pine for the lizard Queen's speech. There's a lot of people on that stage. All arseholes.
Reggie Yates: 'the power of love... ask your mum.' Patronising prick. You don't know when I was born! This is another song off a fucking advert. Why is there a guitar/bass-player there? The power of sludge. Fuck you po-faced snowmen and insipid girl. This is making me sleepy. My boyfriend's verdict: 'this makes me want to go in John Lewis and smash some shit up'.
Payphone! I think Payphone is my song of the year. I'm not even joking. Script dude and Will.i.am, not so much.
Has James Arthur had his teeth fixed? Nah, not yet. At least he's growing his hair out a bit now. I like this song! I think it's quite catchy.
I did enjoy The Killers Runaways song this year, too. I like Brandon when the vein in his neck is throbbing like he's just had words with Richard Dawkins. No sign of him here, though.
Argh, what is it with this Emily Sande agenda? Who are her fans? What sort of music is this? I feel oppressed by its averageness.
So James Arthur didnt even get Christmas number one? Haven't the people of Hillsborough suffered enough? Bland Aid. Ugh, what was the criteria for getting people to sing this song, Northern and a prick? And then pops up Fab Macca. Enough said. I'm pleased about the justice. No need to inflict this on us, too, though.
My mum's boyfriend has got some morphine patches. I think it might be time to slap on 17 of them. Merry Christmas.

BBC3: Glamour models, mum and me

What do you do when your mum is Alicia Douvall and she's pushing you to be a glamour model? Run away screaming.
Alicia Douvall is tapped in the head. Her thinking that 'the body is powerful and can make her easy money' about her own daughter Georgia is so screwed up, it's enough to make a feminist weep. What mother wants her daughter to have an unnecessary operation? She probably just wants her to be as disfigured as she is. I think the kid sees right through it; well it's not exactly a good advert, is it?
You are SEXUALISING A CHILD. Fucked up! It's actually child abuse.
Of course, if your mum wants you to be a glamour model, you become a scientist. If your mum wants you to be a scientist you become a glamour model. That's why I'm not having kids.
Alicia is an absolute idiot. Telling your child they don't need a back up plan when your plan seemed to be selling 25,000 kiss and tells and getting your face mashed up is pathetic. She looks like a burns victim.
Bloc Party are the background music for every BBC3 documentary I ever see! Kele, what you playing at?!
God, then Alicia is insisting she's her daughter's best friend. Just be a MOTHER. And I don't normally judge people's parenting, because I don't exactly have any experience in that area, but come on. Even an idiot guest on Jeremy Kyle could work this one out.
Next Georgia had to miss a load of school because Alicia had to have her breast operation fixed in LA. Jesus. She is actually jeopardising her kid's chance at an education to have work done on her mangled body.
The imbalance in their relationship is seriously disturbing. Georgia seems about 30 and Alicia seems about 12.
Even in agony at the millionth breast reconstruction, Alica was STILL trying to persuade her small child to get a boob job. That is mental illness.
Alicia: 'she speaks in another language to me, about atoms, not bikinis'. Yes, she's got a brain. She's seen who you are, and doesn't want to be it.
At the end there was some unconvincing epiphany when Alicia said to her daughter, 'you're perfect as you are.'
Yeah, see you in Nuts. Unless you RUN. Run, kiddo.

Documentary- True Stories: Chosen

Last night I watched an utterly harrowing and affecting documentary on More 4. I don’t know if this has been on before but it is so powerful and definitely worth a watch on the catch up. You probably didn’t see it, because only someone as relentlessly depressing as me puts themselves through such painful stuff. I watched the one where they set up a camera on the Golden Gate Bridge to watch people topping themselves, too, and that was a laugh a minute as well, let me tell you.
Chosen was basically three interviews with three men who were abused by the same couple of teachers (and their friend) at a private boarding school at the age of 11. It was very simply shot, with no fancy special effects or reconstructions. It was literally just head shots of the men being interview interlaced with some photographs of them as boys. The fact that you could be so gripped by that for two hours tells you everything about the powerful nature of their words and their stories. I was totally lost in it, and afterwards I felt like their stories had become a part of my psyche, if that doesn’t sound too dramatic (oh, it does).
I was struck by the sheer dignity of these men; and how brave and strong they must have been as children to endure such horrific crimes. They were all so eloquent and composed on the surface; but you could see them falter often as they talked about the horrors they had been subjected to; and it was utter horror, repeated over and over. You could see how real it was to them even now, how it was just seared onto their memory forever. You can’t ever escape it or get over it, I suspect, you just have to learn to deal with it.
The loss of innocence, the fear, and the weight of keeping the secret all took their toll. I was impressed with the honesty of all three of the men, who admitted as victims they had felt special, it just became normal to be raped and it did not occur to them to tell their parents, and had even felt jealous when they found out they weren’t the only ones.
I can’t begin to imagine the inhumanity of their teachers, and that matron, who just looked on, but eventually blew the whistle. But even when the whistle was blown; the events were played down, the teachers got away with it, and the parents even sent the boys back to the school.
Not until years later once their parents had died did the men take action. On of the men said poignantly ‘our parents had thrown us to the lions’ but that instinct to protect their parents from the reality of the real harm that had been done to them was so strong. That was something amazing in itself, that they wanted to protect their parents, the way their parents had not been able to protect them. Some had not spoken of what happened in 30 years. Some victims would not come forward. But they had to speak out, because the abuse could have still been going on.
As it was, one of the teachers got sentenced to a miserly 12 months. The other got off scot-free, due to the passage of time/ good character/ blah blah blah. I don’t consider child abusers to be of good character, ever. The judges who make these decisions are just closet paedos themselves as far as I’m concerned; how else could they hand down such sentences? I hope they watch this film and weep and repent, because they need to. You could see the truth in the men’s eyes as they told their stories; it’s written there for all to see. The fact that one of the victims could describe the headmasters twisted testicle seemed to account for nothing. Their words; nothing.
Yet the grown men, the victims did not seem bitter. Utterly damaged forever, yes, but they forged own lives for themselves, with wives and children. They seemed glad they had stood up and been counted. They just wanted it not to happen again, ever. I don’t want to think that this could still happen these days.
But it will. And here my liberalness dissolves; because I say kill child abusers of this kind. Any man who can rape a child does not deserve to exist on this planet, and if that makes me sound Daily Mail, then I don’t give a shit. Because it can’t be more wrong than that headmaster, a man in a position of such trust, still being allowed to breathe air after raping children. It’s like knowing the bogeyman is still alive.
And what is the point in that? Just take the old man out and shoot him.

Shrink Rap: Chris Langham

The Chris Langham 'poor me' mawkish bandwagon rolls on. Hmm, a psychological assessment on TV by a self-confessed old friend. Hardly an ideal contained space, but we'll roll with it.
Dr Pamela Connolly first asked Chris Langham how he got into prison. He replied, 'how far back shall we go?' The real answer, of course, was 'downloading child porn.'
The whole 'he did it for the comedy show' defense is utter bullshit, as testified by Paul Whitehouse. Then there's this whole 'I was abused as a child' defense. So which was it? Was it for the sitcom or was it because of the 'abuse'? Two excuses seems greedy.
So, Langham reckons at age 8 he 'thinks' he was anally penetrated by a mysterious man with ginger pubes. Would you just 'think' it? Wouldn't you know for sure? I can't say for certain how time and trauma may play tricks but I find it highly suspicious. As for his tale of he couldn't remember what the penis was like 'because it was in his mouth'- it's an extremely shocking story indeed, which makes what he did even more abhorrent, in my opinion. I hate the way they dwelt on this so much, as if it is some sort of explanation. Many, many people are abused, physically, mentally and sexually, and go on to be good, kind people, the people they always were. This is IF he's even telling the truth.
Oh and his dad never gave him a cuddle. Guess what, probably half the population have issues with their dad. Get over it.
The rest of his sob story was irrelevant to me. The details of one's life, one's career becomes utterly obsolete once you become the worst kind of sexual predator. That's just the way it is. That's the way it has to be. I don't care if I sound like an angry mob, or a Sun reader. Otherwise you risk becoming one of those pathetic women who take back a murderer, a rapist, a child molester. Like Langham's wife, who lets him live with their kids still, despite looking at kids being raped, whilst she was tucked up in bed. I wonder what their sex life is like?
'I opened my mouth (in those days) and lies would just fall out' admits Langham. Right.
Finally we get to the crux of the matter. He admits he downloaded the images. The police took his computers away. They called him in and he 'was forced to look at the stuff they'd found'. They found it because you were looking at it in the first place, you nonce! You were the one who forced THEM to look at it, not vice versa, you self-pitying freak.
Now he 'doesn't remember' what was on them. He was traumatised by being forced to watch them whilst he'd only watched 'a few seconds'. Poor thing. He felt like he was 'having his nose rubbed in his own/ or someone else's vomit'. Poor, poor thing. Because those kids aren't just ACTORS AREN'T THEY??? You're a facilitator.
Also him saying it was wrong people thinking 'you can only have looked at it because you liked it'- it doesn't MATTER if you LIKED IT by DOWNLOADING IT you ARE COMPLICIT IN IT. Does he not understand that? Is he not an 'intelligent man'? His intent is irrelevant! Stupid, dangerous man.
I don't care if he used his credit card or not. He TYPED IT IN. No normal, decent, human person would type 'child porn' into a search engine. There is just a wall in your brain- the same one that stops you from fancying your brother or pushing someone onto the tracks on the tube. It's called morality, for fuck's sake. Him professing 'courage' at watching the images was just beyond belief. Him even commenting on victims, or relating to victims is just enraging.
As for his comparison to looking at the crucifixion/the Holocaust- how ridiculous. People learn about the Holocaust so we don't go down that road again, to educate ourselves, out of respect. There is no respect here.
Even the zoom in on his trembling chin at the end failed to move me: because I know who I am, too.
There is only one word for Chris Langham: scum. I sincerely hope he never works again.