Big Brother: The Public's Verdict

You're probably already aware that the UK version of Big Brother has recently been cancelled following the final series coming next year. A programme of this magnitude will always cause divisions amongst British folk as organised society can never agree on anything. However, in order to get a feel for the people's thoughts on this news, Muppets For Justice hit the streets to talk to regular people with regular opinions, regular incomes, regular bowel movements, and regular pub regulars about Big Brother. Here's a small sample of the people we interviewed:



Gemma Driveway - Traffic Warden



Big Brother was always there for me when my kids left home and my bastard husband ran off to Haiti with the family dog. It was the one constant in my life. I don't think I'll be able to cope without my little friends in the screen anymore, such as Dogface, that woman who had sex with a wine bottle, and that guy. You know, that guy who did the thing. I always feel like these type of people are my friends because I get to know them so well during the summer, until next year when they shovel a whole new bunch into the house and we forget the ones from last time.



Alaister Pigeon - Data Protection Activist




I, for one, will be glad to be rid of this horrible show. At first I was fascinated by it, I used to watch it all night while in bed. But then I discovered Internet porn and realised I could watch that at 2AM, and I'd actually be able to see some boobs. Big Brother has no use in modern society any more, just like if they were to bring back Ibiza Uncovered.



Barry Shogun - Tesla Coil Operative



This could be good news, could be bad. Depends what they put on next. I mean, Channel 4 had a really edgy show here for a while, so they need to come up with something equally edgy to get the attention of young people, like me. I suggest that we have a reality show where celebrities are put in a concentration camp in the desert and are forced to eat parasites out of each other's hair. The public can vote for who has the most stylish pubic hair, and the winner is the one who can successfully burrow out on the final week.



Stuart Pourer - Senior Bed Taster




This tripe offends my sensibilities. I would love to track down the people responsible for this show, tie them up, kick them down the street while laughing and pointing at them until we reach the car wash, where I'll kick them inside and set it going on the longest wash available. Then I'll shoot them in the shins and poke cockroaches through the holes in their kneecaps, and do a big wee on them while I drink a beer. Then, I'll make them eat mud from a ditch and push berries up their nostrils until they can't breathe while I record the incident and send it to their children. Afterwards, I'll shave off their hair and take them to hospital and trick the nurses into thinking that they are chemotherapy patients, and watch them as they go through weeks and weeks of soul crushing torment due to radiation. That'll teach them to make a show that is offensive. I might also do this to Russell Brand.



Nicole Papa - Executive Welfare Claimant



It's been cancelled?! Crap! My little Shaneesha was looking forward to going on that show when she was old enough! Endemol have shattered my 6 year old's dreams! I think I can sue them by law for that!



Brian Herbie-White - Fire Extinguisher



We cancelled this show years ago here in the States. You Limeys are so far behind I can't even keep up. We even had terror attacks years before you. How's that Hollywood blockbuster you're all watching that we've had for five years? Yeah, well wait until you get this sweet-ass computer game that I'm playing right now. You'll only have to wait until the next ice age. Hahahaha, you crazy bastards.



Alison Packard - Windsurfer




I'm a busy woman who juggles a high-powered career and two children, so I never really had the time to keep up with Big Brother in the last few series. It all went downhill after that Dermont O' Leer guy left though. I enjoyed his youthful exuberance and his shaved head that looked like sandpaper wrapped around a football. Also, he used to stand on the furniature. I always had to remind my kids not to do that, but I don't think his own mother ever gave him that advice. Poor guy. I'd adopt him into my little family and teach him things like that. He'd get on very well with my son, Bradton.




Marissa Duracell - Television Evangelist



Working in the business myself, I can safely say that shows like Big Brother are sloppiest shows a network can put out. They are full of pre-planned events and setups designed to look like spontaneous live moments of comedy or entertainment. That said, I can't get enough! It's my dirty little habit I'm afraid. It's more shameful than the time I pooed on a futon because I was too lazy to go to the toilet. Oh how liberating this feels! I love Big Brother! I hope some other station picks it up soon! There's only so much Philip Schofield I can stand!



Stuart Pourer - Senior Bed Taster




And another thing, I'd prank call of their mothers and send pizzas round to their houses topped with the missing hair of their children. Then I'd kidnap their hamsters and launch them into space! I could do these all day.

Carnal Examination

The waiting room was stifling. Bleak, sterilised, placid walls suffocated the enclosed, unhealthy few who were unfortunate enough to have been stricken with illness or injury. A noxious cloud of infirmity and self pity emanated from those patients who were concious enough to convey a facial expression, whilst the others may well already be dead.

Trying to steer my thoughts from the overbearing depression of the waiting room, I had scooped up what appeared to be a customer feedback card. The contents of this held little interest to me, however, with a little help from a nearby pen, the back of this card would provide a small, necessary diversion from the saddening surroundings. I tried to focus on my barely creative scrawls. Doodles of frog-men and various other unnamed creatures and characters adorned the white spaces of my feedback card until I ran out of room for them. After a short scout around underneath a cascading pile of Readers Digests (backdated all the way through the mid 90s), I unearthed a second card and began to fill out again with sketches rather than actual feedback.

Slowly, my thoughts soon began to wander back to what was waiting for me in mere moments. A throat examination, no doubt, due to the inflammation in that area. Without any prior medical expertise, I felt quite confident that I had tonsillitis. But who would be my doctor for the day? Six months ago, I came in with an unknown condition, only to be met by Dr.Mullins. She was everything you could hope for in a trained medical professional; firm yet fair demeanour, a vast display of impressive technical jargon, intimate knowledge of her chosen field, along with a figure that belies her years.

"Mr Killingworth, room 5 please."

Fantastic! Room 5 was Dr. Mullins! I was sure of it!

Tentatively, I made my way down the corridor and stood outside the pale, faded door. I glanced up and down the corridor only to realise that I was alone. Drawing in a shaken breath of air, I raised my clenched fist and knocked on the door of Room 5. Gradually leaning in closer and cocking my head to one side, I awaited my own, personal siren song to lure me in.

"Come."

Almost rattling the door off of it's hinges, I eagerly swung it open to see Dr. Mullins sat at her desk. Memory had almost eroded her physique in my mind; she was more of a woman sat now in front of me than I recalled from a few months previously. Her luxurious dark hair hung authoritatively, yet managed to just tease her shoulders slightly as if it gave a slight insight into a concealed wild side. Her fitted white jacket shaped her contours perfectly, framing the perfect woman right there in front of me.

After what seemed like days of standing there, she looked up from the papers on her desk and over the dark frames of her glasses, finally acknowledging me with the vivid green of her eyes.

"Nice to meat you. Sit down."

I did so, nervously. I don't know why I was so anxious about her, I never usually had this kind of trouble in social situations with members of either gender.

"So, what appears to be the problem?" She quizzed, a flashing me a toothy smile as she spoke and finally producing a friendly tone. I tried to explain the pain in the back of my throat, but I imagine the rasp of my voice gave the problem away long before my words ever did. She instructed me to stand up so she could take a look in my mouth. As I did so, she came around the side of her desk and brushed my cheek with her hand as she reached for my mouth. Startled by this, I backed away and dropped the feedback card I was holding.

"Oh, you dropped this" she said, bending down and revealing more of herself than she probably intended as she kindly picked it up for me.

It's only then that the horror of this situation dawned on me. In the waiting room, I had drawn a rather suggestive illustration of the woman in question, and even labelled it with her name. This sexualised picture was not only inappropriate, but completely put me in an embarrassing situation. As I stared at her in fear I could see her facial expression become altogether more solemn and serious as she studied the diagram in detail.

"I'm sorry! I rasped as I made my way to the door to leave.

"Wait, don't go!" Dr. Mullins commanded, which stopped me just before the door. Why didn't I just leave? There was something compelling in her voice that froze me to the spot.

"I bet you were preying that I wouldn't see this" she supposed as I heard the click of her heels as she approached me from behind. Still unable to turn myself around, I remained rooted to the spot.

Suddenly, something about that last sentence clicked in my mind. Prey? And then earlier... Nice to meat you...the toothy smile. I came to stark realisation.

Ms. Mullins was a man eating, salt water crocodile.

I turned and pushed the beast away from me with both arms. Barging my way out of the door and into the corridor I realised that the crocodile hadn't been detered by my pre emptive attack and was already upon me. It roared with the ferocity of a thousand dying stars, shaking the pictures off the walls, and rupturing my spleen in the process. As the discarded organs slowly removed itself from my body, the animal sunk it's grizzled maw into my calf and bought me to the ground. In what Irwinites call a "death roll", it began to roll me over, first shattering my nose against the linoleum floor, then back on my back with bone crunching intensity.

Uncharacteristically for a crocodile, it then let go of my leg, and proceeded to stand on it's hind legs before me. I scrambled to my feet, screaming for help against this anthropomorphic reptile, only to notice through my bloodfilled eyes that all the reception staff were crocodiles as well.

"You are now infected. You will soon become a were-croc like the rest of us!" Dr. Mullins cooed through a row of serrated dentures that were laden with my own flesh. I let out a cry of horror as I limped into the nearest open office in a vain attempt to secure my own safety. I dragged my carcass into the room as I heard the croaky laughter of dozens more were-crocs who were descending upon my imminent position.

Glancing around the room for anything to defend myself with, I noticed a medical table with dozens of needles upon it, all filled with various colours. Who knew what concoctions were contained within them. One of them surely must be a cure for this condition. I grabbed a syringe with a green liquid in it and rolled up my sleeve to inject it.

"You think that's a cure? Go ahead, try it."

I plunged it into my arm and pushed the plunger down, filling my veins with an unknown amount of an unknown liquid.

"Well done. That was Measles"

"Shit!"

Hopefully there would be a cure for that too here. I stuck the red one in.

"Tuberculosis"

Green.

"AIDs"

Yellow.

"Spinobifida"

"Spinobifida? In a syringe?!" I cried.

"Hey, that's National Health for you".

That's the point when I blacked out. I awoke and there was God in front of me. He high fived me and let me spend the rest of the day swimming in his pool. He has a really cool wave machine.

The End

Me aged 7 1/2

Your Whims And Desires

I knew I was opening myself up for a world of abuse when I asked other people to choose their own content. One person was kind enough to offer up two equally embarrassing subjects. Anyway, a promise is a promise; this is what you'd like to see me write about:

Tony Mortimer
write about your love of other mens penises

Marvellous. I love other men's penises very much. Penises are the anatomical equivalent of Mickey Rourke; ugly as sin, but very good at what they do. A penis may look like the kind of tawdry item that would flop over the side of a deck in a maritime sea captain's nightmare, but they play a crucial role in society. I don't think I need to explain what the role is.

I think it's time that the penis had a redesign though. Perhaps we could get Steve Jobs to create something a little more ergonomic and flashy; maybe something with handgrips and a wipe clean sheen. Currently, even girls wince at the average cock, that's why you don't see male models with their pocket rockets out in women's magazines. Generally, the groin is covered up in favour of chests and bums whilst they awkwardly cup or cover themselves like hunks of beef left in an abattoir. Until we can create genitals that don't resemble something that coalesces behind your furniture that needs to be tackled with a duster, I don't think that women will ever fully be able to accept us.

Vicki Burke
Why women go the shop in pj's. Fucking gets on my tits!

In my experience, women have a natural affinity for pyjamas. In the same way that a lion is not a lion without his mane, a woman is not a woman without 100+ items of nightwear. It's not only bananas who are the growing consumer market for pyjamas, females have joined the fray and are determined to spend any hour in the house when guests are not invited, pyjama-clad.

I guess the obvious answer is that these women were sat at home wanting to be comfy in loose pyjamas since they didn't plan on going anywhere, then decided they needed a pint of milk for their hot chocolate. The funny answer would be that they are jobless, worthless bints who lounge around all day waiting for their dole money, and only venture out of their houses in order to annoy you.

Colin Tee
ok I want a note on the topic of the encroachement of city centers into forestland and natural habitats. This should be constructed with the pros and cons for deforestation and relocating of wildlife. Please include a medium length rap in the middle of it on the same subject. And for gods sakes make it funny....

As a naturist myself, I find myself very in touch with the environment and the world around me. However, as a person who enjoys the general slobbery that modern living brings, I find myself surrounded by moral choices. If I buy a chocolate bar, there's probably 50 starving people who put their sweat and tears into that dainty bar, and that contradicts my strict "No consuming bodily fluids" policy. If I buy a wooden chair, the tree used to make it probably housed 15 badgers, a gaggle of geese, and a 1 of a kind undocumented rare bird that I've single handedly just made extinct.

Naturally, city centre expansion will only destroy more and more land, trees, and animals. We owe it to ourselves and future generations to find a way of coexisting with other species and using the space we have wisely. I know you wanted me to discuss the pros and cons, but there are no cons to being an eco friendly society that I can see. Anyway, here's a rap.

In the urban jungle amongst all of the cement,
You lose sight of what you're doing to the environment,
All you motherfuckers, I'll give you a warning,
Yo ass better not contribute to global warming,
I'm pouring scorning over those who ain't gonna recycle,
I'll ride by yo ass for free on my bi-cycle,
Cos I don't drive a car, you know I'm advocatin',
Public transport all across the nation,
Keep yo carbon footprint clean, low emissions,
Or else yo ain't gonna get as much respect as even Peter Sissons.

Barry Hogan
I refuse to co-operate with this.

Oh yeah? Well I've just published your name and contribution. How does that feel, huh? HUH!? You know that stinging sensation when you pee? That's me posting your cooperative response.

Please don't kill me.

Tony Mortimer
wanking on the bus is the best thing ever.

Wanking is probably high up there on the list of best things ever, and this is before the inclusion of a ten tonne transport machine. Although I'm a stranger to the danger wank, I can see the appeal, and I'm happy that we could use this public place as a forum to advocate your favourite past time.

Angie Landon

Could you please write about one of the following:

podcasts
wiener dogs
old people...
recycling
Paul Bernardo
your most embarrassing moment
me

Funny you should say that, but my podcast of old people and their weiner dogs was my most embarrassing moment when Paul Bernardo recycled it and sent it to you. I don't think I'll ever get over that...

Tony Mortimer
local dj's being cunts
iphone owners being cunts
People with the initials DS being cunts

Well, in my opinion, iPhones and DJs are...Oh, hold on, incoming...

Angie Landon
You're a bad man, Tony Mortimer. Write about Tony being a bad man.

Tony, are you using this as an excuse to start an Internet argument? I refuse to take part in this insidious scheme to insult a fellow human being over the world wide web. God, you're worse than an iPhone owning DJ...

Chad Ribble
Penny Auctions... search online to find out about this BS.
The stupidity of black people listening to rap music ( which refers to them as 'the n word') after having their ancestors fight for years NOT to be referred to as such.

I googled Penny Auctions, and from what I can tell, it looks like the Internet's answer to those live auctions where they pretend to sell a load of electronics goods for £10. I couldn't be bothered to dig deeper.

As for the big N, you can't go more than two clicks on the Internet without someone dropping the N bomb (especially YouTube video comments). Frankly, I think black people can call themselves what they want as long as I can have a pop at Honkeys and Crackas. I don't know what it is about those words that makes me laugh, but I love to refer to white people as Honkeys and Crackas. They sound like names for youth ice hockey teams, or pro wrestling cliques. "And now, we have The Honkeys vs The Crackas. Llllllllet's get rrready to rumblllllllllle!". Heh heh heh...

I Am Subject To Your Whim

So, I'm finally doing the thing that I promised myself that I wouldn't.

In lieu of anything noteworthy happening in the public eye, I would like you to suggest topics for an upcoming feature that I will write. Post in the comments box with what you'd like to see me write about over the weekend, and next week I shall write about as many of them as I can.

For those who think I am lazy, YOU try writing a 500 word piece whenever you can muster the effort! It's like a pressure cooker in here! Anyway, go nuts, and I'll catch you on Monday.

The Science Of Blogging

Blog, bloggity blog blog blog. Say it enough times and the word suddenly becomes synonymous with lavatory disinfectant. But what is a Blog? What makes a person a Blogger? Why do I have to eat butterscotch to stop myself from going blind?

Blog is just another Internet term to describe a certain form of social interaction. We have forums, PMs, IMs, chatrooms, logs, messageboards, diggs, tweets, notes, comments, and other terminology to successfully alienate the elderly. All of these basically describe the act of typing into a box so others can read it. In an age where, if I so chose, everyone in the world could have access to my daily comings and goings along with addresses and stool samples, in real time, there are numerous ways to communicate with the outside world.

When I first came across Blogging, I didn't think it would be for me, especially when I heard people describing places like Blogger as "THE BLOGOSPHERE". This collective term can seem very imposing to an outsider who may mistake the blogosphere for a type of orbital doomsday weapon. The only reason I got into it myself is because I couldn't be arsed to run my own website, and Blogger already gets more traffic than a toll booth giving out free Wispa bars. It provides a free and easy method of getting a message out there, even if that message is usually about which celebrity I'd liked to see tied to the front of a plough and used to flatten cacti.

So, we can see the benefits of running a Blog, but does anything really set it apart from other forms of communication on the Internet? Well, yes actually. To me, a Blog is much more accessible than most other mediums purely because of the potential limitless amount of people who can come across it. When I post a new update, traffic goes up, and I've no idea who or why. I can only assume it's through people randomly clicking the Recently Updated Blogs thingy on their profiles. Either way, it attracts an audience that is outside of your current circle of friends.

As a person who exists at this present moment in time, I don't tend to go for all these bizarre terms to describe Internet activity. Twitter is just Facebook with everything but the status updates stripped out, so why do they have to call them Tweets? There's nothing special about them. I suppose the same can be said for Blogging, Bloggers, and The Blogosphere (which is a term I really don't like), and I feel a bit like an idiot when I ask people to look at my Blog. It's the kind of word that an aspergers kid would come up with to exclude anyone without aspergers. I'd rather people just said to each other "Hey. Check out my words" and give you a link. It stops them from looking like an elitist social reject.

I'd really like to have more people enjoying my Blog, but I don't want to become one of those Nathan Barley types who exists purely to pester people into seeing how cool my webspace is. But hey, since I'm apparently a Blogger and you're all here, have some fuckin' awesome images that I done made LMAO!

COPYRIGHT OF ME PLEASE DON'T STEAL

A Shot Of Tequila With Tila

First off, hello again to those receiving me from Facebook. If you want to stay current with my latest updates, you can subscribe to my Notes feed, which will save me having to tag fifty of you every time a post is automatically uploaded. Anyway, on with the show.

I happened to be watching E4 about a month ago when I came across a reality show called "A Shot At Love With Tila Tequila". This will probably be old news to anyone from America as it first came out there in 2007, but this was the first time I've seen it.

Now, I've come across Tila Tequila before, and even written a rather scathing review of her hideous music, but I never expected to see her appear on my tellybox any time soon. Because I remembered how awful she sounded (musically, and as a human being), I found myself watching the show out of curiosity. It was like reminiscing fondly about a tropical disease.

Basically, it is set up like a dating reality show such as The Bachelor or something like that, where a bunch of people compete with each other to earn the right to date this particular vapid midget. The episode I watched involved a group of roughly ten men who'd only signed up so they could tell their equally banal bunch of friends that they'd nailed a porn star, who promptly began all the male posturing you'd expect from a sex starved gorilla watching monkey porn. However, there was a twist. During the course of this episode, Tila announced that she was actually bisexual, and a whole set of over preened lesbians joined the group to compete for Tila's superficial heart.

So there you go. Sounds like a bit of a laugh on paper; having boys and girls competing for the chance to sex up a porn actress. However, upon watching the show, you can't help but feel as though part of your humanity is slipping away.

Naturally, the men of the group were upset to find that they'd have to compete with people who they aren't allow to punch. They whined and complained enough to make them look like babies, despite their muscular physiques constantly on show (not a single t shirt in sight here), however, the women were even worse. Most of them looked like drag acts and the only part of their appearances that were real were the fur coats that they'd packed into their suitcases. Even for someone like Tila whose artificial chest looks like a dog with eye strain, these were soulless individuals who could only communicate in what I would describe as "Insipid-lish". Most of their comments were gems such as "Tila gon' pick me cus am hawt an ah know whut a girl needs" or "Ma pussay tastes soooo good!" (ok, maybe I'm paraphrasing a bit too much, but you get the picture).

There was conflict immediately between one of the boys and a girl who laid into each other purely because they were on camera, and the argument was so incomprehensible that the average viewer would become dizzy just trying to figure out what caused it.

So anyway, the show finished and I was left startled and confused. The dawning realisation that I had just watched the worst show in the world was a lot to take on as I struggled to find one redeeming quality of the show.

A few weeks later, I saw a trailer for a new episode. This new episode involved one woman attacking another because she'd been voted off, Tila making a big drama out of it and saying that she needed time to think, then straight away judging a bunch of people rolling around in mud for her pleasure. She was obviously very traumatised that a girl felt so strongly about sleeping with her that she'd willingly attack someone else on camera for the chance.

Britain, as much as you complain about Big Brother, I think I've found the one reason why it should still be kept on the schedules. If it wasn't dominating Channel 4 for the entirety of the summer, we'd have shows like this seeping in. Edgier shows desperate for your attention that only just manage to stop short of showing you double anal penetration and making you vote on it. Be thankful that we still have standards. Slim, questionable standards, but standards all the same.

Priesthood Is Tough

I was horrified today to discover that someone had taken exception to Alan Paige's antics. I'm not sure what compelled Brendan Lawson to message me. Perhaps he didn't like the way I battle rapped people. Perhaps he's a sensitive crybaby. Perhaps he's a foul mouthed flid who was just looking for someone to cry over. Either way, I took the time to message him back, and a short conversation ensued. I decided to play it like a priest purely because he managed to spell "prey" wrong, giving his message an unintended theme.

Brendan Lawson

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keep the change you filthy animal. your a sick fuck stop praying on minors

Alan Paige

Sorry, but I have to pray for them. Who else will save their souls from Lucifer and his hellish army of imps?

Brendan Lawson

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your a fucking wack job you piece of shit and what the fuck are imps you fuck. ps. pcp saved my life

Alan Paige

What's pcp?

A DJ saved my life once. His name was God, and our lives spin on his turntables of love as we make beautiful music together.

Brendan Lawson

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pcp is unreal dont get your panties in a bunch about it you bible thumping fuck there is no god sorry to burst you bubble buddy.

Alan Paige

My panties are never in a bunch, my friend, for God has ironed out all of the creases with his Bosch of truth and justice. If there's no such thing as God, then how do you explain the method of which we are communicating right now?

P.S. your swear words make baby Jesus cry.

Brendan Lawson

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ok first of all it's called science you dumb retard. You talk to 16 year olds and it's weird. i hope god sends you to hell if he does exist. thats just not right. like fuck your weird dude, did you get baby punched as a child? did you get molested? i really feel sorry for you man.

p.s. i have leprosy you sick fuck

Alan Paige

Leprosy!? Well thanks for telling me. I hope I don't catch it from you. Mind you, I'm sure the lord will protect me from such a terrible affliction; he only punishes those who are truly wicked.

What is the problem with me talking to 16 year olds anyway? I don't know which 16 year olds I have conversed with that you have taken exception to, but if you are suggesting that something sexual is going on, then what does it matter? I am from the UK, where 16 year olds are legally allowed to engage in God's free love. I'm not that much older myself. Not that I am trying to get them into bed of course (I'm married to the church you see), and my intentions are to show them the light. And my penis.

More Hidden Achievements

It may have escaped your narrow, short sighted attention that games developers have been putting secret achievements into their XBOX 360 games, which have very exceptional parameters to meet. These don't necessarily show up in your achievements list, but you can unlock them all the same. Many games actually have an extra 500 points associated with them. Here's a list of some of the currently known ones:

Gears Of War 2

Form Of Flattery - 50 Points: Successfully impersonate Cole Train over XBOX Live by shouting "Wooo baby!" and "Lookit all dat juice!" at downed opponents. Constantly. Forever.

WTF - 100 Points: Score a birdie in the hidden Locust Darts mini game using a set of dominoes to topple the house of cards.

Best Offence - 100 Points: Seduce Anya in the secret bunker level back at Jacinto.

Queen Slugforabutt - 250 Points: Seduce the locust Queen and have Anya walk in on you.

Infamous

Whoopsie Daisy - 500 Points: Pop this in the wrong console, mistaking it for Prototype.

Guitar Hero World Tour

Rock Superstar - 200 Points: Complete a choreographed routine in your front room with the guitar involving 25 star jumps, sliding on your knees, playing behind your back, and jumping off of at least 2 pieces of furniture.

Bass To The Place - 50 Points: Convince a friend to play Bass. No one wants to play Bass.

Animal - 250 Points: Play the drums for an hour without having them break on you and needing to be sent back.

Left 4 Dead

Karaoke Time - 200 Points: Hum The Specials - Ghost Town on repeat whilst playing.

Karaoke Time 2 - 200 Points: Hum Thriller on repeat whilst playing.

You'd Get Shot In The Army... - 100 Points: Run away at the start of the game and leave all of your team mates to die.

Condemned 2

No Laughing Matter - 150 Points: Don't laugh at the stupid plot twist involving mind control devices right near the start of the game.

Spare Any Change? - 150 Points: Press pennies into a tramps eye whilst shouting "Here's your pissing change, mate!".

Entrepreneur - 200 Points: Successfully found an underground hobo boxing syndicate.

GTA 4

Waster - 50 Points: Stay in the apartment for six hours real time, watching TV and smoking weed. Just like your real life, you pathetic waste of space.

Realism At It's Best - 50 Points: Flip a bus over by driving off of a highway, landing on your roof, and watch as the bus miraculously rights itself and slides back onto it's wheels.

In Game Environmentalist - 50 Points: Complete the game whilst only driving hybrid cars and without farting.

Not Now Cahsin I'm Busy - 50 Points: Throw your mobile phone into the sea.

Bombs Over Baghdad - 100 Points: Hijack a plane and fly all the way across the ocean to see your mother.

The Latest Model - 100 Points: Upgrade your mobile to an iPhone, then download the app which guesses your penis size and uploads the results to Blogger.

Brucie Bonus - 100 Points: Find Brucies steroids and take them until you turn into The Hulk.

Devil May Cry 4

Halfway There - 250 Points: Realise that you completed the game two hours in, and now they're just making you replay the whole game a second time, even down to the boss fights.

We Need A Pool Table - 250 Points: Beat the old priest, and send him to a retirement home.

The Erosion Of British Morals (or BNPMSL)

The other day I discovered a BNP supplement on my way to work. I presume these had been scattered around by an enthusiast in order to gather support for the party, or by a serial prankster who was intent on damaging the BNP's reputation.

Please forgive me when I say this, but I actually picked it up and read it, mainly out of curiosity. I didn't exactly expect the 20 page campaign paper to be full of unquestionable facts backed up by sensible points and coherent policies, but even then, I was surprised at how thinly veiled their radical viewpoints are. Highlights include (and there were around two highlights on every page), but are not limited to:

1. Britain has far too many people. The optimum population should be 30 million natives to sustain our economy, which is back to "Victorian levels".
2. The coal mining industry should be revitalised.
3. Immigration should be flat out stopped, and asylum seekers cracked down upon.
4. Current non-white British citizens should be encouraged to go back to the countries of their ethnic origins using "sensible policies".
5. Islamification should be stamped out because it threatens our Christianity (the BNP is the ONLY party with Christian morals at heart).
6. The BNP is persecuted against, even by the Church of England.
7. Corporal Punishment in schools is a great idea, and we shouldn't teach sex education.
8. Crack down on crime by introducing the death penalty.
9. Brussels wants to own our naval bases.
   
10. All new homes built in Britain go to immigrants, so we shouldn't build any new housing.

So to sum up, we should go and live in the 1800's. I love this type of radical propaganda because it's hardly ever backed up and is so easy to knock down. Here's a bullet pointed list of my thoughts on the previous points:

1. The first link on Google suggests that the current population of the UK is 60,975,000. This is twice as much as the BNP suggest is the optimum number for our country. Have a quick look around your local town or city, and the vast majority of you will realise that not one in two of us are black. Simply kicking out the foreigners isn't going to cut it, so numbers of white British people need to drop as well. I reckon the BNP should lead the way by imposing sterilisation upon themselves as a good will gesture and example to the population. We could also disassociateScotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland to cut a few million down, and the rest will be sorted out in a good war or two. Sound policies!
   
2. Why should we bring coal mining back? Coal is a declining commodity, and mining it caused a lot of people to suffer from terrible health problems which are still being claimed for today. There's no reason to go back to this industry except for to get middle aged doleite pricks to raise their can of cheap lager and go "Here here! Never did me any harm!".
3. I love my planet and I love it's inhabitants. Call me a spaghetti armed nancy boy if you must, but that's just the way I feel, OK?! Immigrants come to this country looking for work. They are often employed in sectors where born and bred British folk don't want to work such as call centres, bin collection, and service based areas such as restaurants. People often confuse illegal immigration and asylum seekers with people who legally have the right to be here, claiming that they "take all our jobs and houses". Wrong actually. If you cared enough to get a job that you feel is beneath you out of some misplaced superiority complex, purely because your mother happened to squeeze a shit like you out of the wrong hole and it happened to fall on this piece of land known as the UK. That doesn't make you any more entitled to work here than any of the other people who bring new skills from overseas and do so by following the system correctly.
4. This particular point made me feel a bit queasy. "Sensible policies" is about as reassuring as a verbal agreement from a mute rapist that he's only giving your wife a lesson in anatomy. How could you possibly encourage people to move away without violating what we currently regard as Human Rights? The only way to get people to leave is to make the climate very hard to stay. Stop them getting jobs, benefits, houses, and by proxy, food, and create a situation where they have to leave and claim asylum in another forward thinking country.
5. Extremists should be stamped out, but aside from that, what's so wrong with Islam? By definition (as with every other belief) it is a very peaceful religion. Besides, I like the muslim calls to prayer. I call them the Allahrm Clock.
6. To illustrate this, they printed a picture of Jesus saying "They persecuted me, just like they persecute the BNP". The Church Of England is very against the BNP because they are not a bunch of idiots, and this is how the BNP try to get their own back. They claim to be the only party with Christian morals at heart (Obviously Nick Griffin is ignorant enough to have never heard of the Christian People's Alliance), yet vehemontly attack the Church Of England rather than try and get them on side. DURRRRR!
7. I wonder if Nick Griffin would still stand behind his sex education policy if his daughter got pregnant at 14 because she thought sex would be well wicked and had never heard of a condom. In times when AIDs and other STIs are only stemmed by the awareness of safe sex at an early age, I simply cannot fathom why this would be a good idea. We can't afford to be prudish when it comes to being healthy.
8. I don't even know where to begin with this one. We abolished this for good reason. It just seems like the BNP read a book on medevalhistory, then looked at the world around them today and said "and they call this progress?!".
9. This is quite typical of BNP xenophobia. When the European Union does something that the BNP doesn't agree with (which is basically everything they do), they never refer to it as the EU, but as Brussels. This conjures up an image of Nazi Germany in the shallow minds of their supporters who cry themselves to sleep at the thought that the Germans are telling us what to do, even though our troops shot their troops better decades ago.
10. Flawed in every possible sense. Immigrants do not get instant rights to new houses, and if you want the country to grow (which the BNP don't in any sense), you need more houses. More houses would help house prices if there were more available at any given time

So there you go. If you ever needed a ten point list of why not to vote for the BNP, there it is. Racism is an ugly thing; but not as ugly as Nick Griffin's mum. Peace out.