Guardian

Given that the Gallagher brothers can’t stand the sight of each other, one is forced to ask the question why the talentless twosome have reformed the band to do a 14 date UK stadium tour. Surely it can’t just for the money can it?

Well, perhaps Noel’s attitude to reforming softened in the wake of a divorce that allegedly cost him £20m? Or maybe the High Flying Birds aren’t quite flying so high these days?

Whatever the reason the back catalog of rehashed Beatles’ songs will make them a few quid. After all, why bother to go into the studio and release any new material when you can just roll out the same old dross. It’s been so long that the kids will probably think it’s something new anyway.

A beg Admin’s indulgence for the following link to a song I released in 2020. The lyrics are so spot on that it might have just been written today just to mark this momentous occasion. I give you “We’re In It For The Money” which I humbly offer to the Gallaghers if they would like to include it in their set…

youtube

Nominated by ChasC.

A second helping of not looking back in anger from Norman below.

The Oasis comeback….

Already I have had enough of it. The fuss and coverage of this has been ridiculous. First of all, is it the proper debut album era band, or just the Gallaghers with sidemen?

After all, they have had four drummers. So it’s anyone’s guess what sort of ‘band’ it’ll be. A band is a group of musicians who have a magic chemistry and work well together. It isn’t two bickering brothers and load of musos cashing in.

And the amount of morons it has attracted. One knobhead was gsushing about how the reunion is a great day for Manchester. Since when did the Gallaghers represent Manchester? As I recall, the brothers pissed off to London the minute they could, and they haven’t been back since. They are as bad as the Beatles and Cilla Black for shite off a shovel scarpering to the smoke.

And the other pricks who were talking shit today. One silly bitch on BBC Radio Manchester went on about how she saw Oasis in 1989. What? the 1989 when Oasis didn’t even exist? They formed in 1991. And this daft cow was actually presenting the radio show. And, on the same show, another mong yapped on about all the times he saw Oasis in the ‘Eighties’. I knew most of their fans were stupid, but come on…

Oh, and the predictable and nauseating bulllshit from Andy Burnham was present and correct. He can fuck off and all.

As you can probably tell, I am sick of this reuniion before it has even started.
What’s the story? Load of bollocks.

And a third chorus of Wonderwall from W C Boggs.

Every front page today – be they “serious” or cheap or free tabloids carries large photographs of two aging songsters, brothers, it seems, who cordially dislike each other, but, because they need advanced dental work, new trusses and Zimmer frames are reuniting after 15 years to purvey their brand of Britpop with their beat combo.

The Gallagher Brothers are back, and they are treated with all the reverence there would be if Sir Adrian Boult or Dame Myra Hess had risen from the dead.

No doubt many aging Radio 1/2 listeners are creaming their undercrackers at the thought of reliving their youths, but they – and these pop brothers – are now wobbling into middle age, and they will find they are not the fanny magnets they were back then. The battling brothers will probably have brewers droop which will disappoint the now advanced in years groupies, the trendies of 15 years ago are now balding or their tits are resting on their kneecaps. Change and decay in all around I see.

Provided they don’t kill each other on the road, or have another 15 year hissy fit, they might well soldier on like the Rolling Stones or geriatric McCartney, but the ridiculous spin on this non-event eagerly taken up by the press (perhaps to deflect attention from Starmer’s speil yesterday) reeks of undeserved hero worship and free advertising for two worn out old has-beens. The BBC’s news programmes were orgasmic in their love. Far better they and their fans just kept their memories of younger and happier days while sucking a Wurthers Original.

A pair of Mancurian arseholes are going to relieve their old tat at 2025 prices. Why bother?.

I give you a link from the cheapest (in every sense of the word) “newspaper”, though you will even find them in the Telegraph:

Addendum by Sam Beau.

The 2025 `DW Pension Tour`

Yes, I know they`ve been cunted twice before, but why not cunt them again – this time for being the greedy cunts that they are and cashing in on their back catalogue. Before one of them dies.

Not so fucking thick now, are they?

Fortunately, I`ve spent absolutely no time whatsoever trying to obtain a ticket for the upcoming tour whilst simultaneously laughing my face off at the pathetic cunts wasting hours of their lives trying to buy one – for a ridiculous price.

Might I suggest to the brothers it would be easier setting up a `Go Fund Me` page rather than having to actually get out of bed and tour globally the length and breadth of the UK?

But still, after having said all that, I do hope they further deprive millions more fuckwits of their hard-thieved cash with future jigs.

No doubt looking back in anger, it`ll certainly be a champagne supernova for them.

♪🍸♫

who object to perfectly reasonable planning applications on the ground of jealousy, feelings of inadequacy, spite or some personal grudge against the applicant are cunts.

I once made the mistake of buying a listed building. I had to apply, and pay 200 quid, to the local council to change the colour of my front door, from red to black. The neighbour objected. His front door was black, but he complained about ambience and other such shite

The reason for this was that I’d refused to sell him some land prior to the application.

I’ll leave aside the fact that what colour my front door is is none of the fucking council’s business, this cunt was doing his best to get me to assault him, and believe me he was very talented in that department.

Eventually the council agreed to my request, much to his chagrin. Fuck him, prick.

Again, I’ll leave aside the fact that ginger fucker Ed Sheeran is a carrot topped cunt, this is the story that made me think of my own experience.

Sky news

Wtf has it got to do with anyone else if this pasty faced, unco-ordinated fat fucker wants a dip?

Wankers.

The kicker is that when I moved from that house, I offered to sell him the land he required, in order for him to access another piece of land that belonged to him.

I sold it to him for literally 6 times its value, after threatening to put a covenanton the land forbidding its division.

Reap what you sow, muthafucker..

Nominated by Termujin.

is a cunt.

Some backstory: Tim Walz, the Democratic VP nominee, gave a speech at the Democratic National Convention. During his speech, he relays his and his wife’s experience with IVF treatment, and tells his family that he loves them. In response to this, his son, who has a learning disability, stands up, claps him and points to him.

Ann Coulter later puts up a tweet calling said son ‘weird.’ Maybe she’s angry that she doesn’t have children of her own. Maybe she can’t handle the fact that she looks like a Chinese knock off version of Cruella de Ville. Whatever the reason for her tweet, she’s a cruel, heartless cunt who represents basically every negative stereotype about the modern Right. The sooner the rat faced bitch disappears off into obscurity, the better.

independent

Nominated by OpinionatedCunt who also cunts some fucker below for similar reasons.

And, for the same reason, Dinesh D’Souza is a cunt too. In fact, his tweet sounds even worse. I hope Flatback wins now, if only to make these two pair of subhuman vermin seethe. Shit like this is why I’m drifting away from the Right.

X twitter

It never ceases to amaze me what people do to their bodies. They’ll have bits chopped off, bits sewn on or pushed in, they’ll bake themselves orange on sunbeds, they’ll dye their hair green or purple, they’ll stick rings or pins through their most intimate parts.

It’s no skin off my nose of course, and hey, we still live in a *cough* free country, but the one thing that really puts me off is women with tattoos. Nothing howls ‘chav’ quite like it.

Take for instance that IsAC heroine and woman for our time Katie Price. Don’t her tattoos really enhance her appearance? Not.

Daily Fail

But even our Kate’s excesses pale into comparison against one Esperance Fuerzina, who claims to be the world’s most tattooed woman, with 99.8 of her body covered. Yes, I’m ahead of you there; where’s the 0.2% that ISN’T tattooed? I’m sure we’d all love to know;

Metro

Now bear in mind that this doesn’t include other ‘modifications’ such as getting her tongue split. I mean, imagine actually paying to get this done to yourself. It’s batshit crazy I reckon. Even worse, imagine waking up first thing to the sight of that boat race. It’s like something out of the X-men. You’d likely shit the bed.

I think on balance, I’d rather not wake up at all.

Nominated by Ron Knee.

I love collecting music. It’s my thing. I have way over 2,000 CDs at this point and well over 3,000 titles in all formats overall. It’s a great hobby. Relatively inexpensive and provides hours of pleasure. I’ll even go as far as saying my collection is akin to a time machine. I can play a given album and I’m immediately transported back to the time when I first played it and re-live the emotional highs and lows of what was happening in my life at that time. Music is truly a wonderful and powerful thing.

The other day I was browsing in my local used record/CD store. A guy who works there (Dave – who I didn’t know) happened to stroll past and noticed I was wearing a Gary Numan tour T-shirt. He made some comment about the ‘Holy One’ and engaged me in conversation. During our chat I learned our musical tastes overlapped to quite a degree and he mentioned a few bands I might like none of which I’d ever heard of before. Quick as you like, Dave whipped out his ‘phone and played me some clips and one in particular sounded very interesting to my ears. As luck would have it, the store had new copies of that band’s 2nd and 3rd albums in the rack. I decided to take a punt (that’s how you end up with a ton of CDs in your collection) and asked Dave of those two, which would he recommend. He suggested their third album.

An hour or so later I’m back home and ready to give my new purchase a spin. First track and I’m absolutely blown away. It’s dark, heavy, atmospheric, jangling guitar, swathes of electronics with a haunting male vocal line that repeats:

Don’t say you love
If I don’t say I love who you are now
Who are you now?

The whole album is quite exceptional. It’s a rare treat to be this mesmerised so quickly by something completely new to me. I’ve since ordered their entire back catalogue (another way you end up with a ton of CDs in your collection). Yeah, I think they’re THAT good.

My point is, I just happened to be wearing a Numan shirt, Dave the store guy just happened to walk past, noticed it and had sufficient time on his hands to stop for a chat. All of which lead to me discovering a new band I now absolutely love. If I’d worn a different shirt that day or Dave wasn’t working that day or hadn’t walked past or …. none of this would have happened. How many other bands am I not going to discover who I’d love if I heard them? I suppose it’s silly and irrational, but I find that thought sad and depressing and a bit of a cunt. Dave has over 8,000 CDs in his collection which is also a bit of a cunt. I’ll never get close to that before I peg it.

The Band: Drab Majesty
The Album: Modern Mirror
The Song: A Dialogue

youtube

Nominated by Imitation Yank.