the pop culture phrasebook

2008-11-07T12:57:00.002Z

banked a cheque at lunchtime at RBS in Victoria Street. In like Flynn, no queueing. As usual, they tried to upsell some services. I cut to the chase - I'm withdrawing my savings soon and switching. I explained that it was becuase I felt that, out of all of the banks affected by the recent crisis, they were by far the most inept, their losses being greater than all of the others.

Poor leadership is a good enough reason for me to leave, a lifelong customer. But what about others? Tellers hadn't heard any such talk from anyone else. Wonder why? Struck me that RBS could be doign a far better job of trying to reassure their customers and explaining why they're such fuck ups.

Quick before they kill it off

2008-10-16T11:16:00.003+01:00

My 14 year old nephew is spending half term writing songs, so he told me on IM (which he and his mates call MSN) yesterday.

I was preparing for a quarterly client review when he fired up the chat, so my instincts were to pour water on it as quickly as possible. Until I remembered a good piece of advice: Praise a child.

It hoovered up some time, but it was worth it. He pasted some lyrics into the IM window - pretty typical teenage stuff - highly emotive, raw-sensitive, and longing for acceptance. Over and over he said they were 'rubbish', but I stuck with my praise, saying I was really proud that he was being so creative and using his imagination. Then he pushed me on specific feedback. Eek.

So I stuck with it. I went back through them and applauded him on making them emotional and sensitive, for using very visual metaphor ('closing of a door' on his advances to a girl) and for being honest about his feelings. He loved the feedback.

Taking it on a step, I gave him some ideas of how to build momentum for his new interest, based on some of the techniques I'm rolling out at the office. I suggested that he get his favourite songs and try and write some of his own stories on top of the lyrics, replacing them but fitting in with the structure and meter. Again, he soaked it up. I suspect that he'll adopt far quicker than office-bound adults.

He's at an age when he's already been exposed to 9 years of beating the imagination out of him at school - of thinking vertically and logically. This is exactly the problem we all suffer from in a world that demands more and more ideas, but which is built on structures desigend to stamp out creative thinking. So encouraging my newphew to engage his imagination isn't just spiritually rewarding for me, it's critical for him. As such contests like rubberband are great, but show how corporations are beginning to value children's imaginations highly.

I've been thinking a lot about kindness right now, and this praising a kid thing not only ties into that, but also helps you feel more positive according to Lynda Field, which is useful at times of stress, like this month.

Also, however, my Spidey-sense is tingling with 'kindness' and 'optimism' a lot right now, and both seem like happy bedfellows. From the William James quote in the sidebar in this article (I know it's the Mail, was the in-laws copy, not mine, honest) to this World Changing article about 'active optimism' to even lovely ad agency, W + K's blog 'Welcome to Optimism'. Last night I had a dream that I was in a nightclub during the day with W+K's creative team making things with millions of Lego bricks - it seems I can't even hide from the glass half full approach even in sleep.

Feels ironic, given that the news is reaching a strange kind of zenith of pessimism, to sense that optimism is about to become a driving force in the world. Maybe it's change in the air. And change can be good, but only if we make it that way.

We launch the T-Mobile G1 Phone

2008-09-23T16:53:00.006+01:00

The office was a frenzy of activity today, buzzing with journalists and teams excitedly calling the nation's media for the launch of the T-Mobile G1 phone.

It's the first phone to use Google's Android platform, and is built into an HTC Dream type handset.

The world's worst kept secret - although naturally us at Brands2Life towers kept our mouths shut - it launched today in New York at 3.30 GMT on the dot.

Can't wait to get my hands on one. Well, i have fondled one already, but, you know, I want more than a one night stand with this awesome internet mobile.

The new face of the PCP

2008-07-10T16:15:00.004+01:00

All change here at PCP towers.

I'm straighening out the content by abandoning the parody news posts, and instead posting a mixture of straight-forward diary entries as well as the more stylised variety - all relating to pop culture, or my interpretation of it.

This is to enable me to use the blog in a more personal way and to chart various projects such as a comedy project, an art project and even a gardening project. Different parts of my life but I'll fuck it, lets see how they hang together.

Take it away Thin White Duke...

E.T. FUEL LOAN

2008-06-30T11:41:00.006+01:00

Alien leaves I.O.U. to farmer for stolen red diesel

Extra terrestrials buzzing Britain's summer night skies with UFOs are the latest victims of rocketing fuel prices. In the early hours of this morning, an alien life form was spotted syphoning red diesel from the tanks of a Hereford farmer.

An eye witness account tells of a small, humanoid creature stealing the fuel, normally used to power tractors, to put into his space ship.

Nat Sass, owner of Stag-I-Hedge farms, witnessed the account. She said: "I heard some blippy sounds so I grabbed my shotgun and stepped out into the yard. Imagine my surprise when I saw this little green man in a space suit nicking my fuel to get his ship going!"

Sucking on a space hose
"The Martian was sucking on some kind of a silver space hose to get his syphon going, then filling up his craft - a saucer-shaped thing with flashing lights, like a disco. "

Frozen alien trance

"I would have shot him both barrels but I was frozen to the spot. He'd obviously put me into some sort of alient trance, so all's I could was watch."

After the extra-terrestrial robber had his fill, Mrs. Sass snapped out of the trance and blasted both barrels of her shotgun at the rapidly-ascending craft. However it had spun off at about 600mph, rapidly outpacing the cartridges. Sass immediately dialled 999, but, shockingly, the police refused to help.

Limp ballcock
The PCP caught up with PC Plod today to quiz him on exactly why he gave up on the rustler from another planet. Sergeant Colin Ballcock of Hereford Constabulary offered a limp excuse: "Our law doesn't cover alien invaders."

Dry pumps
With the global fuel crisis deepening and filling station pumps drying up, more and more motorists are turning to desperate methods to keep their vehicles on the move. E.T. isn't the only one to turn to stealing farm-grade diesel to keep his vehicle moving. However now that we're competing with alien raiders for increasingly scarce supplies, it seems like looking to the skies and praying might not be enough.

Squirrels raid allottments as credit crunch grip tightens

2008-06-26T17:17:00.006+01:00

Bushy tree bastards - or 'squirrels', as the BBC calls them - have carried out a series of daring daylight raids on vegetable plots and allotments, robbing gardeners of the very veggies grown to fight off the worsening credit crisis.

The news comes as the Daily Telegraph reports that humans are also stealing from allotments, in a bid to help give newspapers straws to clutch at to fill blank pages.

Boom fruit
Plots and allotments have enjoyed a depressing boom in recent years, with tight-arses turning their back on expensive imports found at upmarket boutique strores like Lidl and Aldi, instead using their green fingers as a way of saving on fruit and vegetable bills.

Twat-faced

However, it would now seem that the tree rats - or 'squirrels', if you're twat-faced animal pornographer, Bill Oddie - are taking advantage of this green revolution.

Root-themed

The bushy bandits made off with broccoli and broad beans in Grimely Grumed, near Lancaster, allotment, while other sites in the region have also reported root-themed thefts.And the ratty-toothed big tails aren't stopping at vegetables, with strawberry burglaries also reported.

DiCKs

Harry Phwoar, chairman of the Department in Charge of Kitchen-Gardeners (DiCKs) is concerned the problem could get worse as the economic outlook worsens.

"With squirrels taking up to two strawberries per plot, families are in sever danger of starving."

Someone called Lynda said: "It's heart-breaking."

Kevin, a man, spoke to us. He leaned in, raised an eyebrow, tapped his nose and whispered: "Prraakkkkkkchlotu!"

Students to get gas huffing lessons

2008-06-24T16:15:00.003+01:00

British students will get 'gas huffing' lessons in a bid to cut deaths as a result of asphyxiation. New legislation from government will see 13-18 year old pupils receiving instruction on how to get high on gas safely, minimising risk to their health while maximising their highs. Good times.

Sniffing Brown
In a bid to half the deaths from the popular teenage pursuit of aerosol sniffing, prime minister Gordon Brown has ordered school leaders to educate pupils on how best to consume the intoxicants.

Prime sex pest
The prime minister wants drug education to mirror sex education, and likens unwanted teen pregnancies to unwanted teenage deaths.

Announcing the new legislation, the Prime Minister said: "Some people call me a pest when it comes to sex - not everyone wants to talk to under-16s about shagging, but I certainly do. I believe that, if you get them young enough, you can convince them of anything - including how to have a decent romp, without getting bang up the duff."

Beautiful Hell hole
PM Brown went on (and on): "Teens don't want their young lives ruined by something as petty as death - just as they don't want to fall pregant before they've had a chance to sniff the beautiful flower of teenage life, by joining a gang and stabbing a rival to death, having public sex in holiday resorts like Ayia Napa, and getting banged up abroad in Hell holes like the Bangkok Hilton."

Gangs adopt second holiday hangouts

2008-03-05T12:03:00.004Z

Record numbers of London gangs are taking on second bus stops in the subburbs to hangout in at weekends and holidays, according to research today. However the affluent, city gangs are driving suburban ones out and local businesses are suffering from the downturn in trade.

Gangs such as the Peckham Misfits, have taken on a bus stop near the main train station in in Surbiton, Surrey, in addition to their main hangout in Peckham Rye. This new location is exclusively for weekend and holiday use.

Gang leader, Ryu Chaps said: "We use it just like our London stop. We stand around, drink cheap cider, inimidate passers-by, and graffitti."

There's a dark side to the story however. Local shopkeepers whose survivcal depends on regular, nightly sales of cheap alcohol, cigarette papers and graffiti pens and spray paint, are suffering from the lack of regular trade.

Kenny Snash, who owns Snash Stores, near the Surboiton bus stop adopted by the Peckham Misfits said: "I need regular, local trade from local thugs or else I'll go under. This weekend-only trade is killing me."

Man defends 999 'wank bank raid' call

2008-03-05T11:39:00.005Z

East Dulwich, London - A local man who called 999 last night to report a raid on his 'wank bank' today defended his actions.

After a night at the local EDT pub with friends, John Carmichael, called 999 and requested police arrest a friend who was attempting to rob his 'bank' of masterbatory fantasy material.

According to caller, his pal, Glen Calzone, had spent the evening encouraging him to describe every girl in his mental onanism directory. According to Carmichael, Calzone wrote details of every female down - even drawing pictures - for his own auto-erotic use.

Carmichael made the 999 call as soon as he returned home, insisting that police visit Calzone and charge him with 'wank bank' robbery.

Commenting on the case local police superintendent, Glenda Wigwam, said: "Carmichael undermined his charge by volunteering the information to the accused, without apparent resistance. In this supposed wank bank robbery, Carmichael opened the door and welcomed Calzone in. besides that, there is no law against this kind of robbery - it's not illegal."

TINY TEENS TERRORISM THREAT

2007-11-05T13:42:00.000Z

Children as young as 15 are among the "thousands of UK residents who pose a terror threat," according to the head of Britain's shady secret service, the MI5.

Upon hearing the news, the PCP sent a team to ask members of the public what they think.

After a detour via some specialist shops in Soho, we got these reactions:

Bert Rumplestiltskin, fruit and veg stall owner: "Finally something to reverse the perception that they're a shower of useless turds who layabout masturbating over video games all day."

Judy Trumpet-Smythe, harp tuner: "Every Halloween we get the same story - but you can avoid the little rascals terrorising you simply by stocking up on Celebrations and Haribo."

Mick Tramp, kebab magician: "Pick a kebab sir, any kebab. Now don't let me see it, sir. That's it. Now put it back in the pack sir. Now I'll shuffle the kebabs and - abrakebabra - is that your kebab, sir?

Post-punksters' Daring Oink Raid

2007-10-24T10:36:00.000+01:00

New York-based post-punk band, Interpol, today smashed an international music pirate ring Oink after a daring dawn raid.

Armed with little more than lateral haircuts and angular indie tunes, the band - pictured above outside Oink's offices before the raid - stopped the members-only music file sharing site from trading.

Similar raids on other music file sharing sites are expected from Interpol contemporaries.

The P.A.P - Post-punk Artists against Piracy - sydnicate, which includes bands like the Strokes, Bravery, Muse and Franz Ferdinand will be shutting down file sharing sites worldwide this week.

Named after the sound a pig makes, Oink is now closed pending an investigation by P.A.P.

Dumbledore: I'm gay but not like other gays

2007-10-22T15:40:00.000+01:00

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, sensationally came out as gay today. Despite celebrations from London's gay community, however, Dumbledore was quick to distance himself from what he called the "mincing gay pride crowd."

Bovver boots

Speaking from his office in Hogwarts. "I'm not like those other gays - mincing about London's Old Compton Street in bottomless chaps and bovver boots, crowing about how many cock rings I have. They-re-so-clichéd," he lamented.

Attack of the clones

He went on: "I dress just like the other wizards here and know how to have a laugh with the lads. They don't feel threatened by me. I think I'm unique in that respect - so don't you dare compare me to those gay pride clones."

Revenge of the sith

However, according to a PCP source deep in Hogwarts, Dumbledore is not the only gay in the village. "Quite a few of the wizards are gay," said our source, "but they're all just like the other lads, except gay. They dress the same as us, hang out with us, drink the same stuff. There's not a stereotypical homosexual man among them. They're all pretty cool."

The phantom menace

The PCP challenged Dumbledore with this new information but he threatened to turn us into frogs.

Rugby's Golden Balls adds 'not very sweaty' to list of talents

2007-10-22T13:27:00.000+01:00

The 'Golden Balls' of England's World Cup-losing rugby team has risen angel-like above the crude sturm and dram of the game once again.

For against all the odds, during his team's defeat to new rugby world champs, South Africa, Johnny Wilinson left the pitch without a single bead of sweat, grass stain, muck patch, or scratch on him.
Such things are left to mere mortals - the other 29 players in each team.

Pictured left just after the final whistle of the rugby equivalent of a pitched battle, the pristine and unruffled England fly-half was photoshoot-ready, in sharp contrast to the vulgar opposition.

South Africa may have left the pitch world champs, but the sweetness of their victory was soured by their physical appearance. Unlike pretty boy Wilkinson, the Boks were a ghoulish patchwork of blood-spurting gashes, dark bruises and sweat-soaked matted hair. They were more warring primates than gentlemen rugby players.

To a man they smelled worse than a hostel of Glasgow tramps. And, where their once-pristine team kit wasn't splattered with their own blood, sweat and tears, it was stained almost beyond recognition with grass and muck. By winning such a prestigious match in such a disgraceful fashion, the Boks have brought shame on the delicate game of rugby. So thank Albion for Johnny and his one-man mission to bring the game out of the Dark Ages with his effortless - or even better, zero effort - grace.

Some people argue that, with a kicking record as appaling as Johnny's, it's better to look like you've given it every last inch of energy to a match where fans paid the cost of a new car for a ticket. Those people are obviously neanderthals, whose vulgar protestations Johnny himself can breezily sweep aside; it wasn't his fault that he missed so many easy opportunities at goal, it was either the ball's, or an injury that he had the serene dignity to keep quiet about until some beastly journalist raised the ugly accusations.

Pervert art doll targets West London yoga babes

2007-09-25T20:13:00.000+01:00

A young woman today described her horror at being attacked at home whilst in the middle of a solo home yoga session by a pervert art doll.

Amidts sobs, Debbie Chintzowitz, an account manager
from Chiswick, described her horror by reading from a carefully worded statement: "I was doing the 'cat' position, to stretch my lower back. Then I heard panting behind me, and a man-sized art doll was touching himself provocatively.

"He asked me if I could give him a 'happy finish' with some sandpaper. I refused, so he turned nasty. Thankfully, I had a tin of woodworms in the fridge. When I threatened to set them loose on him, he scarpered."

The Met police issued a warning to women in the West London area. Chief Inspector Juliet Bravo warned: "From this crime, we've discerned a disturbing, criminal pattern. It's obvious that the pervert is targeting lycra-clad women peforming yoga exercises at home in the West London area. So we're urging any woman performing yoga exercises at home, particularly in tight lycra clothing, in West London to be vigilant, but not vigilanté."

Sage advice.

Facebook 'news feed' reinforces man's lack of interest in friends

2007-09-18T12:09:00.000+01:00

Glasgow, Scotland – The newsfeed on Facebook has made a local man realise he’s not as interested in his friends as he thought he was.

Unable to avoid the newsfeed, which contains a constant stream of the minutae of his friends' lives, Kevin McCloud is bombarded by the status updates, new pictures and mood changes that he simply doesn't feel emotionally connected to.

Keith McCloud says, “Before Facebook, I was able to talk at my friends, and share the thing I'm most interested in - a big bowl of 'me'. Then I would merely pretend to listen to their news."

But Facebook changed all of that. McCloud laments,"Now, if I want to use Facebook, I can’t click through my friends' news updates quick enough. It’s icky and unavoidable; like trying to reach the other side of a field covered in cow shit, I have to wade through the muck of lives of people who are close to me.”

“I’m even getting updates on people I haven’t seen for 15 years,” Keith moans, “but I wasn’t able to deny their friendship invite, as I’m already about 650 friends behind the most popular person in my circle.”

Eddie Murphy to play Melanie Brown in movie

2007-08-07T19:39:00.001+01:00

Eddie Murphy has turned his paternity suit frown upside down thanks to a new movie role – as ex-girlfriend, Melanie Brown.

Handcuff hit-to-be

The Beverly Hills Cop star has broken free from the handcuffs of the recent court battle by playing his ex in a new story about her awesomely interesting life.

Sexy mental star

“Scary Spice – the Blagger from Britain” is the story of ex-Spice Girl and Murphy lover, Melanie Brown. Murphy is playing the title role of failed female pop star and serial star fucker, Mel ‘B’, because, his agent charitably states, “He is totally, beyond-psychiatric-rescue mental.” Murphy is known for playing the role of multiple characters in such hit movies as Coming to

America

and Nutty Professor. So he can play her. After she has played him, obviously.

Relax with transvestites

When he’s not playing a dramatised version of an ex-lover who has just dragged his reputation through the international tabloid press for personal gain, Murphy likes to relax by dating transvestites for money. So it's not like he's a stranger to weirdness.

WIFI spears bring head hunters into digital age

2007-08-06T21:14:00.000+01:00

Only ten years ago they still feasted on human flesh, but now the ancient jungle tribes of Papua New Guinea are set to feast on 21^st century style information - thanks to the arrival of wifi-enabled spears.

Hollowed-out owls

The brainchild of Microsoft founder, E.T., and Intel CEO, R2D2, the internet-enabled spears blend seamlessy into the environment and connect wirelessly to transmitters hidden in hollowed-out owl carcasses in trees.

Yippee

R2D2 said, “This kind of technological advancement will allow them to leap thousands of years of missed civilisation straight into the wonderful world of the 21^st century. Yippee!”

Boar brain sorbet

One resident tribe, the Wakakukakakakuki, were said to be cannibals up until 1496. However, those tribesmen hoping to use their new cyber spears for a little dotcom shopping for such staples as tree frog poison shots, boar brain sorbet and cobra liver souffle will be disappointed: the internet cannot process the island's cuckoo feather currency – yet.

Calum Best's "coffee and conversation" shame

2007-05-30T14:00:00.000+01:00

Chicken-strutting stud-boy, Calum Best, has disgraced himself and his glamorous, sex-addicted playboy image today, as the PCP exposes him as a "coffee and conversation kinda guy."

Our shock revelations follow a story in The Stun that claimed Best was a whoring sex-psycho who hoovered up grand lines of cocaine then screwed a non-stop parade of escort girls and movie stars like Lindsay Lohan.

However, the truth is far darker tale of scandal-free restraint. Though Best's aides claim he is a "drugged-up, lust-crazed bed romper", two of PCP's favourite Mayfair escorts, Bruna and Sylvia, have revealed a far sicker truth to Best's behvaiour.

They claimed to have met Best in Chinawhite nightclub, where he was sat in the VIP area doing the Times crossword. They persuaded him to join them for some fun in in the city's swanky Metropolitan Hotel. Having stripped off, strapped on and chopped up for some hot sex action, they were to be dissapointed: Best confessed to them that he was more of a "coffee and conversation kinda guy."

Rather than undress and snort a line of Bolivian marching powder, Best remained clothed and asked if the irrisistible hookers had any "fresh salad and Elderflower juice?"

Bruna and Sylvia soon booted out the disgraced 'playboy' and have not heard from him since.

A mere 99% of bubble era businesses out of business

2007-05-14T21:00:00.000+01:00

A whopping 1% of dot com 'bubble era' techology businesses are still in business, according to a report released today by ACME research. A random sample of all dot-coms that received venture capital financing in 1999 encouragingly showed that only almost all of them (98.9 percent) were out of business five years later.

Senior Analyst with ACME research, Bob Sideshaw, commented: "This clearly shows that the doomsayers were crackpots. They were wrong to write off the booming dotcom businesses of the late nineties.

"With a massive 1% still going, there's irrefutable evidence that the bulk of these start-ups, profit or no profit, were smart bets for investors. Everyone blamed the economic downturn of 2000 onwards on technology - but those people are crazy.

LIZARD INVASION

"The real reason was that the Chinese sent in giant, flying lizards to infiltrate Western stock exchanges and fry the circuits. Their daily, unrelenting attacks sent markets haywire. It took us five long goddam years to get rid of the scaly brutes. But the media doesn't tell you that, in case you freak out. I mean, who wants to know that the gimcrack Chinese have trained flying lizards to attack our commercial centres? Not me, Buster."

BETTING SLIPS

With the technology sector currently experiencing a second massive boom, The PCP quizzed Sideshaw on the prospect of another economic meltdown. The analyst, who arranged to meet the PCP in a high street bookmakers, where he was knee deep in ripped up betting slips, said that the outlook was optimisitic for the technology sector.

Sideshaw said: "Where in tarnation did you get a wild idea like that? I'm betting everything on tech. You should, too. Bet the house! The wife and kids! Heck, bet your own sanity on the stuff.

BULL SHITS GOLD INGOTS

"Imagine the technology sector as a giant bull that's literally going to shit gold ingots for the next 100 years. Who wouldn't want to be in the tech bullring?" After lending Sideshaw £5 for a 'sure fire bet on a three-legged horse', our The PCP reporter made her excuses and left.

Good Nudes for Greens

2007-05-11T18:10:00.000+01:00

20,000 butt naked adults gathered in the middle of a city centre this week. Normally, nudes massing in such numbers are a sign that avant garde artist, Spencer Tunick, is shooting one of his sea of flesh portraits.

However, in this case, the PCP has learned that it was simply thousands of misshapen and horny hippies from Scotland’s Green Party spilling into the streets to celebrate their deal with the SNPs to govern the Scottish Parliament. If you walk past the party, best keep your hands firmly at your sides, and look straight ahead.

President Bush's Welcomes the Queen

2007-05-10T18:46:00.000+01:00

The PCP has grown up a bit this week to bring you some important international news. In our first report on global affairs, we print a transcript of President Bush's welcome speech to our very own Queen.

PRESIDENT BUSH
Fellow ramekins and treasured gusts, join me in welcoming the Queen of Englandville to celebrate the successful onion between our two Greek counties.

Liz, I’d like to congratulatify you on your Oscar. I simply loved your movie, The Queen. And I loved you in it - you were real purty, yet strangely sexy in your fur. I like a woman with fur, Liz.

But, Lizzie baby, I have a bone to pick with you. Why oh why did you not get your beautiful bazongas out? You've done so in almost every other movie, like Calendar Girls and that biography of my daddy, Caligula. And all of those other naughty movies that Laura doesn’t let me watch.

One thing’s for sure, you certainly still have the mind for state business and the body for sin. So what if you're gettting on a bit? You know what they say: the older the berry, the sweeter the juice. You're a bona-fide MILF, Liz, and I don't mind who knows it.

Now, Queen Liz, as is tradition in Ameri-go-round, me and my feral Rastafarians would like to honour you with a song. And we could offer you no higher respect, than to sing you one from you own repertoire. Of course, you're more than familiar with Bohemian Rhapshody. All together now: “Scaramouche, scaramouche, can you do the fandango? Thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening - me!"

Exclusive: Henry Ian Cusick interview

2007-05-10T17:57:00.000+01:00

The PCP is proud to bring you a major exclusive celebrity interview. Thanks to the editor's Scottish connections, he's been able to lure (blackmail) GMTV celebrity lush, Carla Romano, and Lost's psychic hunk, Desmond, played by Glaswegian actor, Henry Ian Cusick, to these fair cyber shores. This is the interview transcript in full:

CR: Hello, Desmond! As you know, I'm the biggest foreign sycophant in all of Hollywood, so I hope your arse can withstand some serious kissing.

HIC: It's Henry, not Desmond. And is your skin meant to be that orange?

CR: Anyway, Henry, thanks for agreeing to an exclusive, tell-all interview to reveal the ending of Lost. So, what’s the big news?

HIC: About what, exactly?

CR: You know, on the ending…of the show.

HIC: Naw, orange lady, you've got me there. What show?

CR: 'Lost', of course.

HIC: Very much so, aye.

CR: You've really got no idea, have you?

HIC: Not a clue what you're talking about. Are you here to take me away from this strange beachy paradise and back to Glasgow?

CR: Oh, bollocks to this- I'm off to find a sunbed. Bye Desmond, I mean Henry.

HIC: Aye. See you in another life, brother.

Male Stripper's Lethal Weapon

2007-05-10T17:41:00.000+01:00

A male stripper who dresses as a policeman was arrested this week with wielding an offensive weapon.

The stripper from Aberdeen, who advertises himself as “packing a serious truncheon”, was arrested for having a CS gas canister as an accessory.

However, a local woman has revealed that “fraud” would be a more appropriate charge, as his lethal weapon is “so small you’d need Sherlock Holmes magnifying glass to see it.”

Journalists gagged at silent film photocall

2007-05-09T17:38:00.000+01:00

Media gathered today at a photocall for the personal movie camera that was used by silent screen legend, Charlie Chaplin (1889-1977), and were asked to limit their communication to exaggerated facial expressions, over the top gestures, and the occasional prat fall.

Publicists managing the photocall on behalf of Christies, who will offer the camera for auction, maintained a strict silence throughout, though this inevitably damaged the publicity effort beyond repair.

The Keystone Cops of publicity stopped journalists from asking vital questions and TV presenters from speaking to camera. They also vetoed photographers’ cameras which made “clicks, whirrs, and bleeps” that were “more in keeping with the Star Wars era than Charlie Chaplin’s”.

To police their strict, silence rules, the publicists kicked journalists on the seat of their pants, knocked their hats off, tweaked their noses, and punctuated such episodes with comedy horn squeaks. A soundtrack of 1920’s style music played in the background, whilst black and white cue cards were periodically introduced to introduce the photocall’s next set-piece.

Publicist spills pint, fails to spin way out of subsequent fight

2007-04-28T17:46:00.000+01:00

Slick West End publicist Sir Max Cliffe was recovering in hospital today after being beaten up in a Mayfair bar last night, following an incident where he spilled a tray of drinks that a fellow customer was carrying.

Celebrating a new business success with colleagues, Cliffe was re-telling the dramatic story of the win when the trouble started. Using increasingly dynamic and unpredictable gestures to punctuate his points, he backed into John Snatch, who was carrying a tray of drinks including Guinness and red wine from the bar to his group of friends. Excitedly wind-milling his arms and dancing back into Snatch, Cliffe sent the 6’4’’ man flying. A soaking, stained and furious Snatch confronted Cliffe who, on instinct, tried to spin the incident with an unsuccessful salvo of flip missives.

Cliffe tried to convince the married, semi-professional rugby player, Snatch that: “You look hot, wet – I could get you a front cover of gay bible, Attitude magazine looking lie that”; and that “red wine stains are all the rage in trendy Hoxton – I know Pete Doherty’s stylist and she’d give you one, particularly if you gave her a half ounce of skag.” However, the legendary spinning skills that usually give Cliffe the victorious 'punch the air' feeling of victory, this time resulted in a punch in the face misery, as Snatch rained down blows.

Horror stricken across their faces as they looked on, Cliffe’s colleagues fled, citing lateness for various vital West End dinner reservations.

The Freshman

2007-04-16T20:49:00.000+01:00

Been hunting this video for ages, and finally it's online, for free. Rejoice. It's Harold Lloyd's The Freshman, and is probably my favourite silent movie of all time.

It's the full video, so if you're watching at work, try booking a meeting room for a good hour and 15 minutes.

The movie inspired the funny enough but infinitely inferior (in my, uh, snobby opinion) Waterboy, starring Adam Sandler. If it's more saucy trivia you're after, however, I can tell you that the silent star, Lloyd, was one of the only people who bombshell starlets, including Marilyn Monroe, trusted to take their nude portraits. All totally tasteful of course. Hubba hubba.

IMDB outlines the movie's plot thus: "A nerdy college student will do anything to become popular on campus." However, what excites me most about this movie is the football game scene, which was shot in sequence, an unusual method for Lloyd. Anyway, further geekery aside, here's the movie. Hooray for Harold Lloyd.

Madonna to get another orpan

2007-04-16T12:21:00.000+01:00

The PCP has learned that skeleton-on-strings pop psycho, Madonna, is on the hunt for orphan children. The deranged Kabbalah priestess is poised to adopt a new child to add to her growing collection.

And, once again, she is looking to pluck a child from total obscurity, rescue it from third world poverty, and boost its otherwise bleak chances of survival and nurture it back to health – and hope.

She is expected to find an orphan in Liverpool later today.

Watson's Wind-Up

2007-04-16T09:10:00.000+01:00

Long time no post but I've been in self-imposed work exile and had no life for a while.

Received an email from my contact at the Comedy Unit (Chewin' the Fat, Still Game, Rab C Nesbitt) at the weekend. As you can imagine, it sent me
into wild throes of excitement.

My contact suggested that I submit some sketches to Watson’s Wind-Up, a BBC Radio Scotland show which "recasts the recent news in a jettison of sharp-tongued, irreverent wise cracks."

According to my contact, the brief is that the jokes or sketches are to be Scottish and topical, between 20 seconds and two minutes and based on the week's news.

As one of painfully few shows that invites unsolicited submissions, Watson’s Wind-Up creates a promising outlet to get vital experience. It will be competitive but I'm rather keen to give it a try. Will mine make the cut? Only one way to find out…

So, for practice, will be doing some more Scottish-leaning posts with a more mass market appeal - as well as the usual twisted take on the news - on the PCP in forthcoming weeks. Fucking hilarious ones, obviously :)

Reid wants illegal immigrants to breakdance to death

2007-03-07T10:50:00.000Z

First it was texts, now Home Secretary John Reid is introducing break dance battles as a deterrent to illegal immigrants.

Making his announcement today, Reid unveiled his latest use of popular culture to “engage with immigrants at a street level.”

Reid’s new plans will see illegal immigrants breakdance-battling against a special Home Office unit – Her Majesty’s Breaking Crew - for a chance to stay in the country.

And in a 21^st century take on gladiatorial Rome, repeat offenders will have to break against each other - to the death.

Cherie around his neck

The PCP caught up with Reid, today to discuss the controversial new scheme. The Home Secretary was dressed for the occasion, wearing a trucker cap, L.A.M.B. love sneakers, and vintage Adidas tracksuit. Reid was also sporting some serious neck bling; when we quizzed him about its origin, however, he replied: “Listen, aight, jus’ don’ mentions it to Cherie, you get me.”

Watt the hell?

Explaining the new scheme, Reid said: “Dig this, blood. We’ll line town squares with linoleum and rock the block with some sweet Skeg beats. It’ll be mad-wicked, you get me. It’ll be a hip hop battle to the death. Normally, there ain’t no physical contact, get me. So we’s gonna change alla dat, by wiring up the immigrant breakers to electric shocks. For each move they lose, they’ll get a fatal dose of watts. And that’ll send their begging, blagging asses straight to hell.”

Flare sucks

Reid wrapped up our meeting by showing us some of the moves he has learned from the new Her Majesty’s Breaking Crew. The PCP has to say, his toprock and transition into a downrock were pretty accomplished, but his power moves – a swipe, windmill and flare – sucked. He even blew his elbow freeze, so we’re glad that Home Secretary Reid won’t be doing any battling of his own.

Barking Mad-vertising

2007-02-19T14:05:00.000Z

Britain's top dog food manufacturer has announced Ukrainian feral child, Oxana Malaya, as the new face of Pedigree Chow.

According to a company press release, Malaya, who was raised by feral dogs, was selected "because of her uncanny ability to connect with dogs and human beings alike."

However, when the PCP spoke with Head of Pedigree Chow Marketing, Frank Whanckerman, he told us that there was more to it.

Whanckerman said: "Dude, she's like totally feral. It's not an act. You couldn't make it up. It's just...just awesome. This is the kind of funny shit we make up in marketing meetings but...she's just so real. I was, like at the screen test, you know, drinking a few beers, and she crawls in. Crawls! I was all like 'what the fuck?!' We've totally got to use her. It's just, just so funny, you know? It's like, if someone doesn't use her for a dog food commercial...well, fuck, man, you know?

"Anyway, check this out. At this screen test, we're like, in the studio and she's like, you know, bounding about the studio on all fours, cocking her leg and peeing on the cameras and stuff...pretty gross. We're all like - 'that's pretty feral behaviour!' Ha ha ha! She IS though - that's what's so funny about her! She came up and stuck her nose right up at my arse - can you believe that? I usually have to pay for that. It's brilliant for me and brilliant for Pedigree Chow.

"We didn't even have to pay her anything. We kinda just gave her guardian like £1,000 - nothing to us but shit-loads to them. For a laugh, we gave like Oxana a fake cheque, that I actually drew - with a pen - and she can't even tell the difference between that and a real one. It's just brilliant - so funny. So we've got her for nothing. How inspired is that? It's just a marketer's dream! End of."

Comedy connections

2007-02-19T13:36:00.000Z

Last week a hitherto camouflaged crack squad of comedy connections exploded into view. Although none have borne fruit, as yet, they've gotten me mildly over-excited. If nothing else, they offer me potential opportunities to get some useful feedback on the fat wad of sketches I've written to sell to TV & radio.

Saturday morning, I forced myself to call Tam Cowan, Daily Record columnist, radio and TV show presenter and comedy writer. A friend of my Dad's, Tam is the closest connection and the most likely to offer useful, honest feedback on my material so far. I was nervous about making the call. All week - in fact, for two weeks, I had procrastinated. Though I believe in the scripts, I had been suffering from a sever case of rejection paranoia. However, I managed to get a grip and gingerly made the call. No answer. Following a rambling voicemail and follow-up text I let it lie. Still heard nothing but I can wait a week or so.

Friday evening, I met up with my old colleagues, and one who I had worked closely with for two years turns out to be pals with the talented Nicholas Burns, who played the lead in Chris Morris and Charlie Brooker's 'Michael-fuckin-Jackson-awesome' Nathan Barley. The pal may offer to read the scripts and give me some clinical feedback. Just what I need. How amazing?

And yet another connection is a fella at work, who has one of Britain's best comedy talents in the family, of all places. However, it will be some time before I'm prepared to have material viewed by someone of his talent, even if I'm ballsy enough to ask.

Nevertheless, interesting for these connections to sort of emerge from seemingly nowhere. And gives me a sense that I'll be able to get some contstructive cricicism on the material so far as well as some ideas on what to do with it. And, the wheels are in motion now. Wonder that will happen on this new ride?

Met arms police with snowballs

2007-02-08T17:07:00.000Z

The Met police chief, Ian Blair, today confirmed that he will be arming his Armed Response Unit with snowballs.

Blair said: "The recent snowfall may have brought most of London to a standstill, but serious crime continues to flourish. Although criminals, like ordinary Londoners, cannot use any tube or overground trains becuase of this catastrophic 2 inch snowfall, they are using alternative means such as walking."

But Blair has cunningly turned the freak weather conditions to his advantage, by issuing snowballs to armed response police to hurl at weapon-wielding crooks.

Blair continued: "No-one can resist a snowball fight. Be it happy-go-luck school kid or hardened, sawn-off shotgun-carrying career criminal. So our plan is to despatch officers to a crime scene, where they take cover, and draw the crook into a snowball fight by pelting him. It's idiot-proof. Plus, are armed response unit has taken to killing innocent civilians, so snowballs are safer for the general public. "

The Wrath of the Inch of Snow

2007-02-06T14:52:00.000Z

The Inch of Snow that brought London to its knees last week has issued a chilling threat: it may return in the cold snap this week. It's the news that Londoners surely feared the most, and may have some fleeing the town in terror.

Today, at 4.03 p.m., the Inch of Snow cut into national TV and radio broadcasts, taking over the country's airwaves to deliver it's nerve-rattling warning, in an accent alarmingly like Alan Rickman's:

"Puny Earthlings. I, the inch of snow, hate you. I hate your trains. I hate your Tube. I hate your inability to cope with even the meekest weather. And so I, the Inch of Snow, will return to destroy your diminishing faith in Britain's public transport once and for all. Beware.

"Your trains will grind to a halt. Your Tube lines will shut. Your buses will not move. And, although you humans will be able to walk and move exactly as normal through my really quite thin dusting of snow, and though that dusting only lasts until about 8.30 a.m., whereupon it just kind of melts, so help me I will bring your public transport to a grinding standstill."

The PCP asked Mayor Ken 'Livid' Livingston to comment, but his press spokesman said that he was "far too busy sending letter bombs to congestion charge managers, Capita."

Britain climbs up crime tree, follows PM's example

2007-02-06T11:57:00.000Z

Britain finally has something to be proud of - it's #2 in Europe for crime and classified as a "high crime country".

Narrowly missing out on the top spot to, what Jedi Knight, Obi Wan Kenobi, calls a "wretched hive of scum and villainy", Ireland, the UK has claimed silver medal in Europe's crime leagues.

The island nation had yesterday started a last minute countrywide crime spree in a bid to clinch first place, but failed to topple Ireland, a land populated almost exclusively by criminals.

100% pure British Prime Minister, Tony Blair, said that the nation should be proud of second place, but to try harder next year.

Today, as the British people crowded around TVs in their homes and crammed into pubs with big screens to see the results being announced, the Prime Minister gave the following address:

"People of Britain, we have done ourselves proud today. We have earned Europe's respect, and built a solid foundation to become the world's most criminal country. We have all done our bit. I have been a criminal. My illegal arms deals, wars and peerages for pals with cash have all contributed to our proud record in 2006. And Cherie has done her bit too, exploiting all the loop holes to help get me off the hook. I say to you: lets build on this success, and lets win that crime crown in 2007."

Since its empire has disintegrated, Britain has failed to come first at everything from sport to economics. However, these encouraging, new crime statistics offer hope to the British people, and many indeed help make the nation proud once again.

Eye contact epidemic threatens Tube travellers

2007-01-25T21:39:00.000Z

Londoners are on alert today after the Met Police issued a new stark warning for tube travellers.

The Capital’s police force has told commuters to brace themselves for a wave of newcomers and tourists engaging them in eye contact and conversation on their daily commute.

The news comes when residents’ fears of strangers engaging in interactions on public transport are at an all time high due to growing visitor numbers and immigrants pouring into swinging London.

One London commuter, John Snatch, said: “I was in a train 20 minutes behind a colleague who was trapped in a blast of stranger chat – an Italian tourist asked him which train to take to Madame Tussauds. He’s been in therapy ever since. I had a narrow escape.”

Another, Margaret Cringe, said: “I’m never going on the tube again. It’s just not safe anymore. The unwritten rules of the Tube are no eye contact and no talking to strangers. Now those rules have been violated, I’ll never feel fully safe again. So I’ve bought a bike, and am going to cycle from now on.”

Eye contact and random conversation are perhaps the least understood of all threats to public sanity on London public transport. But new research by a source close to the PCP brings home the full horror of how an outbreak of such interactions, if increased in scale, might affect London.

It would wreak panic in the Underground, see large numbers of bus routes shut down, roads closed off and result in long-term illnesses such as politeness, sociability and human warmth.

One frightening possibility is that there’s an epidemic caused by tourists and those new to the town engaging in conversations with ordinary commuters. This could result in a mass hysteria that would shut the city down.

The London Mayor’s office has issued a stark warning to all Londoner’s to be on their guard, report any suspicious conversation-starters, and invest in anti-interaction solutions like headphones and dark glasses.

Man leaves wife for self-service checkout

2007-01-10T14:41:00.000Z

Ayr, Scotland - Donald Donaldson, 47, today left his wife of 23 years, Rita, for a self-service checkout in his local supermarket.

Donaldson fell in love with the voice of the automated checkout in his local Tesco store, and has been spending evenings in the shop next to the checkout, waiting for what he thinks is a woman who will emerge from the machine at closing time.

Donaldson told the PCP: "She's everything to me. I'm walking on air when I hear her voice. Just listening to her - and that's the limit of our interaction currently - is enough to know: She completes me."

A spokesman for the Tesco store told us: "The guy thinks there's a woman in the machine. Talking to him. We have to remove him every night - physically throw him out of the store. One night, at about 3 a.m., our security found him standing naked and hugging and kissing the checkout. Around it he'd placed flowers, chocolate, a glass of champagne. There were romantic notes, too. He must have hid in here after closing."

Donaldson, has twice left wife, Rita, in the past ten years. In 1997, he had a short affair with an automated phone payment service for an electricity provider, and a full blown romance with the Glasgow Central railway station automated announcer.

iPhone to bring peace to Iraq by 2008

2007-01-10T13:51:00.000Z

Apple launched the iPhone today, a phone that its founder Steve Jobs claims will bring peace to Iraq - but not until 2008.

Speaking from the MacWorld Forum 2007, Jobs said: "This phone pretty much does everything, and for sure peace in Iraq is the ambition (for iPhone). However, we're aware that it's a mature peace market there, with lots of competition trying to settle the nation. And, as we're new to this whole creating-a-lasting-peace-in -the-Middle-East thing, we want to walk before we can run. So we're projecting 2008 for a definitive, iPhone-driven peace."

The new wonder phone is also a music powerhouse. With it's dial-up style connection, it can download a CD-quality album in under 7.5 hours.

See also:
The iPod does everything
The iPod gets double wag of the finger

7/7 hero saves toast from burning in office kitchen

2007-01-10T13:30:00.000Z

Two slices of Warburton's toast were set to burn beyond all recognition, yesterday, until a 7/7 hero bravely dived in to save them.

In an ordinary, central London office kitchen, consultant, Amanda Sloan, had put her white bread slices into the toaster, expecting a nice lightly toasted bread awaiting her in minutes. But - crucially - she failed to check the timer. It was set for five minutes – two minutes more than her slices needed - but enough to turn Sloan's toast heaven into carbonised bread hell.

Not only was she two minnutes away from disaster, she made matters worse when she briefly fled the toaster area. Sloan nipped out of the kitchen to find a newspaper to read with her breakfast, thus leaving the bread toasting hopelessly out of control.

Fortunately for Sloan, her colleague, Lance Splinter, heroically raced to the rescue. Splinter, a 7/7 hero sniffed the start of a slightly acrid odour - and immediately sprung into action. A veteran of the London terroist attack - he saved himself from the potential carnage by not going anywhere near a danger area - clean-shaven Splinter smelled danger, just like he did that sad day in London's history.

Only this time, Splinter's heroism stepped up a further notch. He selflessly strode into the danger zone and just got a nail on the 'eject' button right before the toast burned.

Chiselled-featured Splinter told the PCP: “I just did what anyone would have done.”

The PCP wishes there were more like him. We salute you.

Iraq visit helps PM avoid London queues

2006-12-19T17:50:00.000Z

London's Oxford Street was Britain's busiest at the weekend, choked with millions of consumers going toe-to-toe for Xmas presents.

But while shoppers bustled, barged, searched, queued and collapsed in exhaustion, one canny Brit dodged the crowds and snapped up a few bargains at the same time. That man was Prime Minister Tony Blair, who nipped off to Iraq for a spot of Xmas bargain hunting. Speaking from the country's capital, the prime minister gushed: “There are bargains galore in Baghdad, and the shops are practically deserted.”

Blair was visiting Iraq’s war torn capital after a night of fire fights that saw the heavily damaged city’s residents flee in fear. The prime minister managed to snap up some local fare in the near-deserted streets, grabbing a yashmak and a hooka among other gifts for his family.

A squaddie contact of the PCP whispered: “He asked us where he could get a cheap burkha for Cherie.”

Following his shopping trip, the Prime Minister quickly stopped off at a few British army bases in Iraq, to speak with sqauddies and autograph tanks.

Lack of scandal dents England blame clean sheet

2006-12-18T09:05:00.000Z

“Lack of scandal” is to blame for England’s cricket team failing to escape criticism from one of their worst test cricket performances in years, claims coach Duncan Fletcher. The England cricket XI, trailing the series 3-0, lost the coveted Ashes to world champs, Australia, today in Perth.

Ball-tampering, match-rigging and referee bribery scandals have captured the public imagination and diverted media attention from shockingly poor England performances in recent years. However, the Ashes series, the cricket world’s most-anticipated series, was painfully scandal-free for the team.

Coach Fletcher lamented: “It’s the worst (Test series) for years in terms of scandal. What I’d give for a bit of dodgy ball tampering, like we had in the summer when we lost against Pakistan. We can usually rely on (world’s best ‘spin’ bowler) Shane Warne for a bit of private life strife to divert the media’s gaze. But they gave us nothing.”

Fletcher was speaking to the PCP from the bottom of a pint glass in Whitechapel, London.

Opik to leave Irmia for “more exotic name”

2006-12-18T08:29:00.000Z

Liberal Democrat MP, Lembit Opik, is to leave latest squeeze, Gabriela Irimia, for a girl with “an even more exotic name,” according to an insider.

Having hooked up with the z-list Transylvanian from failed novelty pop act, the Cheeky Girls, just two weeks after splitting with fiancé, weather girl Sian Lloyd, it is said that Opik is craving an even more exotic name to appear in gossip columns with.

“Lembit thinks that Irimia sounds too ‘Mongolian hoards’,” says a friend. “He’s more into a spacey kind of vibe now – something like ‘Ursula X150’ would be a perfect name to date.”

Opik split from weather girl fiancé, Sian Lloyd, two weeks ago, as she refused to change her name to Streets of Sian Fran Cisco. Lloyd said at the time: “Lembit insists on having a partner whose name sounds like a 70s TV show starring a young Michael Douglas and improbably-nosed Karl Malden. But I didn’t want to change my name.”

Wii like - Nintendo gives prisoners new chat-up line

2006-12-11T21:33:00.000Z

Word from inside the joint reaches PCP towers that prisoners are going gaga for Wii (pron. 'we'). That's the new Nintendo Wii, yo.

See, the new game console's unique playing style - using the controller like a kind of raquet or lightsabre handle - is leading to frenetic game play. This leads to sweaty palms and which in turn leads to controllers slipping right outta hands and onto the floor.

Like soap.

You wanna pick it up?

Go on. Pick it up bitch.

Dalek babe's Polonium boon

2006-12-11T21:12:00.000Z

An immigrant in a dead-end job today snatched a chance of a better life - thanks to deadly poison, Polonium 210, yo.

Raven-haired man magnet, Ela Malek, was up to her East European elbows in dead fish and dirty dishes at Itsu, the restaurant at the centre of the London radiation scare. As a poorly paid waitress, the snake-hipped seductress harnessed media interest in the Polonium scare to get sexy pictures in national tabloids like the Sun.

'Radiating' sex appeal, the so-called toxic stunna served up a well-honed pitch designed to appeal to the British tabloid market. The busty brunette with Bond-girl looks said: "I feel like I'm caught in the middle of some mad spy movie."

Malek, the only daughter of Davros the Dalek, also discovered a rash on her perfect ten body around the time of the scare. She didn't say where the rash was or whether the STD clinic medicince has cleared it up, but has sworn to get rid of it before any casting couch calls.

Xmas party polls top Xmas polls poll shocker

2006-12-11T20:27:00.000Z

It’s not shocking! But it's official! Xmas party polls top our Public Relations Professionals’ (PROs) Favourite Xmas polls poll list, 2006.

Britain’s battalions of brand publicists are unleashing Xmas party polls at a rate of more than 5 per day – that’s a whopping 35 per week, according to a simple arithmetic equation designed to patronise readers.

The festive party stories, meant to generate publicity in the nation's newspapers, radio airwaves and televisual broadcast beams, are thrashing lesser counterparts such as research-based stories about crap towns.

Here at your friendly neighbourhood Pop Culture Phrasebook, we've scaled the greasy PR pole to get a bird's eye view of the battle for Yule-time column inches. And we're proud to bring you some highlights from the blizzard of festive party stories that are bound to get you in the party mood. Fortunately, the findings are reasuringly trite and predicatable, so they won't tax your emotional or mental energy reserves:

Bosses can be mean about giving workers money and time for Xmas partying, says GMI Europe
People spend money at Xmas parties, according to Cornhill Direct
Norwich Union reckons that hangovers from Xmas parties make you feel ill
Cleaners attend less Xmas parties than some other workers, such as Xmas party organisers, says British Cleaning Council
People have Xmas party antics such as flirting with colleagues, finds found Nandos
Drunks lose phones when hammered, says T-Mobile

Digging deeper into the fascinating pop cultural phenomenon of the Xmas party PR poll story, the PCP made yet another jaw-dropping, knee-trembling, throat-parching discovery.

The word 'poll' was the number one most favouritist way to describe the sampling of consumer opinions on the subject of Xmas parties. 'Poll' easily beat lesser nouns 'survey' and 'research' - a whopping 66.6% of PRs favoured the four letter word to its lengthier counterparts.

PCP went to interview Poll at its home in Ashford, Middlsex. After several unsuccessful attempts to get Poll to answer the door, we shouted through the letter box, only to receive the following reply: "F*** off! I'm busy inserting myself into a press release. And another. And another. Uh, yeah, you like that don't you press release? Say my name, *****. I'm Poll Daddy, *****!"

Trying another tack, PCP spoke with the slick and dashing Mayfair publicist, Max Cliffe. Cliffe said: "Survey has become a dirty word in this town. Poll has more mass appeal; your ordinary man on the street has a mental age of a 13 year old - we're talking 70% of the population, here. That's why X-factor is such a hit. It's a small word - like Sun, and Star and Mirra - and that means it's easy to read. Research, on the other had, is more high brow, yet much more credible. But the truth is, there isn't a publicist in town that knows how to wield it's awesome power. Or how to spell it."

Pop Culture Phrasebook offer: Mel Gibson available for racism workshops

2006-12-01T13:54:00.000Z

Looking for a celeb to front anti-alcoholism, or racist campaigns? Then look no further than your friendly, neighbourhood Pop Culture Phrasebook. Thanks to an exlusive offer through our sister PR agency, the Pop Culture Reputations, Inc.*, we can exclusively offer you Mel Gibson available for any kind of brand work**.

You may have caught Mel advising Michael Richards - Kramer from Seinfeld - on how to recover from being caught making dodgy racist comments in public. Richards recently told two black hecklers in his stand-up audience that "50 years ago, we'd have you upside down with a ****ing fork in your ass," as this report attests. Racist Gibson said, "I like him," and said that "They'll probably torture him for a while and then let him go." Thankfully, this is ego-crazed celebrity racist Mel Gibson, so we know he's not being totally, utterly flip. Because he's a Hollywood star. With a major ego. That's-why.

The recovering alco-racist recently hit the headlines for his driving the "JP (Jewish Princess) Widow Maker-mobile" car around Hollywoodland whilst drunk out of his tiny, eggshell mind. He also made a series of anti-Semetic comments and was abusive to a couple of ever-saintly LAPD' cops. Luckily, the Catholic fundamentalist, Mel, apologised and has since made a full recovery: He's vowed never to apologise again for such racist remarks in public again without his fingers crossed behind his back.

So if anyone knows a thing or two about a thing or two, particularly is those things are racist, it's grandmaster (Grand Wizard? - Ed) Melly G and his furious bile. And that's why we're offering you this chance to not only get a major celebrity to endorse your campaigns, but one who knows all ab out being a dumb, drunken racist idiot. Word.***

*This is not a real agency
**Not strictly true
***Not, uh, a real article

Ordinary person visits Malawi, doesn't get any publicity

2006-12-01T07:48:00.000Z

An ordinary Scottish woman who visited Malawi this month in bid to generate personal publicity, has today admitted spectacular failure.

Jean McCracken, a 50-year old widower and primary school teacher, had followed in the footsteps of celebrities who have made the PR pilgrimage to the poverty-stricken African country in a bid to start a media frenzy. However, the country, portrayed as a media hotspot, has failed to live up to the hype. As a result, Jean has spent weeks waiting for a press reporter and photograher swarm that has never appeared.

Speaking from an orphanage, where volunteer worker Jean was doing one of a clutch of daily tasks as volunteer, she said: "Malawi has been all over the media in the past month as one of the world's top destinations to go to get publicity, but so far I've had nothing. Evey day I see celebrities advertising it as easily the best place to raise their profile and gain public sympathy - people like Madonna, Brangelina, and Melinda Messenger. The attention that offers them untold fulfillment was meant to be within my reach. Well the PR around that country is nothing more than hype - I've been here a week and not done a single photocall. "

The Pop Culture Phrasebook caught up with leading publicist, Max Cliff, to offer Jean advice on how to turn this crushing negative into a positive. Max said: "How much are you paying?"

Meanwhile, non-celebrity Jean is stranded in a publicity vacuum. The non-celebrity is forced to busy herself with mundane, achingly meaningful tasks such as teaching orphans critical life skills and vital, basic educational skills. Rather than publicity, she has had to make do with little more than love, affection and appreciation and the empty feeling that comes from genuinely helping a suffering people.

Meanwhile, every day Jean remains tortured by the memory of the media frenzies in the country around celebrities like Madonna. The reptilian, ego-on-skeletal legs generated worldwide media coverage in a massive Malawian PR stunt. On her recent baby shopping trip, the singer attended a string of press-friendly photocalls in various, tribal villages. This included reading her failed children's book in English to Chichewa-speaking Aids orphans, and doing sexed-up dance routines from her latest world tour to children under the age of sexual consent, and her famous 'cruxifiction' routine, to staunchly Christian villagers.

Get 40% off good wine in time for Xmas

2006-11-29T14:41:00.000Z

"You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on" - Dean Martin.

Hic. You like to drink wine, right? I like it too. Even more so when I can get top tipples for less. And that's just what you and I can do by clicking on the picture to the left, or download the better quality PDF here.

There's more to the voucher than meets the eye. Oh sure, you'll still get money off, so print away. However, there's a bit of a story behind it. Apparently, the brand's marketing men didn't intend for the 40% off voucher to speed its way around the interweb - but it has, and how. Rather than a few Thresher insiders knowing about the superb offer, now 1000s of outsiders doo, too. Like you. Like me. So it goes.

So get down to Threshers, grab a few cases, pour yourself a snifter, and check out the Gaping Void for the full story.

Bowlin', howlin'

2006-11-23T10:46:00.000Z

I'm off bowlin' tonight with colleagues. I'll post my winning scores later, after wiping the lanes with my lily-wristed work pals ;)

I'm modelling my style on Teen Wolf - very wristy and howly. I'm a darn site hairier than any wolf though - and I'm not sure how my fur will interfere with the hair-odynamics. But that's for me to figure out.

You - you can check out clips from my favourite movies featuring hot bowling action:

The Little Lebowski - the short version of Coen Bros. classic, The Big Lebowski (sweary)
Bill Murray on blistering form in the final scene of Kingpin - strangley (lairy)
A wolf that can bowl? No, a Teen Wolf that can bowl! (hairy)
Animal House, Porkys & Gremlins - more confusing than the three put togther, and far lower budget/quality than any of them individually, it's the equally 80s lowbrow classic Sorority Babes in Slimball Bowl-O-Rama (scary)

Smile - you're on sex camera

2006-11-20T17:05:00.000Z

In the middle of writing some PR proposals for a new biz prospect. I'm developing a fashion photoshoot idea themed around making of a celebrity sex-tape. Called "The fall of celebrity", it should generate fashion magazine coverage. Particularly if we get the right snapper - someone like Terry Richardson or Ryan McGinley.

Don't know if the prospect will be up for it or not - it's risqué but fun. Either way, I've had some fun checking out some of my fave reality and gonzo style photography sites in the name of research. I'd like you to enjoy them, too so here are some links:

Terry Richardson - official site and other work
Zoldan King
Ryan McGinley
Vice magazine - the photo issue

Zootube - Taxi

2006-11-16T17:25:00.001Z

Double-funny video to promote Zoo magazine. Saw it on large screen at the cinema before Borat movie. Well, if you're gonna spend £10K on an ad...

We like sharing

2006-11-16T16:15:00.000Z

"I tried to save the world but forgot to save myself" - David Hasselhoff (We're currently being quoted £150,000 for one day of the Hoff's time - frankly I'd rather sit on a chainsaw than hire that leathery has- been who has jumped the shark for the umpteenth time)

Jedis ask for human rights, don't think Dark Side poses threat - today's Sun Online, either I missed in the print edition or it's online only (?????)

Kevin Federline wants to get his super-talented mitts on this lot - thanks Popjustice

sexy walls

2006-11-16T14:02:00.000Z

Back in the 80s, purple pop star, Prince, was writing lyrical Viagra so filthy that I had to have a cold shower every time I listened to his songs.

Banned single, Erotic City was one such audio grot, Purple Rain track Darling Nikki was another. His output of sexy songs was so prodigious that he had too many for himself.

So he gave them to other artists, such as Sheena Easton. After, allegedly, love-grinding his Purple Highness pelt-like* pelvis, the wee Scots lassie recorded a Prince-penned number called Sugar Walls. You can probably work out what 'sugar walls' the pop star was referring to.

Equally sexy, yet infintely more sublte and stylish is Ded Associates' new wallpaper, Paper Voyeur. My old mates' Jon and Nik have come up with easily the sexiest wall coverings of the year. And if you want to write about it, sell it or buy it, simply contact them on +44 (0)114 249 3939. They're rather shit hot graphic designers so if you need any design work done, bear them in mind.

Tokyo tramp stampede

2006-11-16T13:35:00.000Z

It's 4am, and the tramps are beginning to stampede. Along with them are the Chinese students. Caught up in the frenzy are a bunch of Tokyo gamers. 300 tense people are orbiting Bic Camera, a Tokyo store, with the same intent - to be among the world's first to buy a shiny new PS3 console.

Brad's account of buying the first PS3 console is insightful, emotional and just a little hilarious. Sharky businessmen have employed a number of poor Chinese students to snap up the consoles to sell at vastly over-inflated sums abroad. Tokyo residents have paid tramps to queue for them. Journalists, snappers and TV crews are there to capture the action.

No-one is allowed to stand still thanks to a law banning queuing in the dark. A store shutter moves here. A store clerk appears there. But a mere flinch at Bic Camera tips the mob into a frenzied rush to the store. And then back again. It's like a panicked version of a Benny Hill chase sequence. As for Brad and his mates, they're just hardcore gamers intent on getting the console the world has been waiting for.

For PS3, this truly is PR that money can't buy. Now, I'm off to type up a plan for an MP3 player new business prospect. Recommendation #1, hire squad of tramps...Story via Jean Snow.

Spamalot review

2006-11-16T00:16:00.001Z

Just back from Spamalot at the Palace Theatre. It's a cracking comedy musical with some brilliant moments. From the "We need a Jew" song to the French castle sequence right outta the Python movie that inspired the show - complete with wooden stealth rabbit. It's not a musical of the Holy Grail film, however; like the publicity says, it's inspired by the movie. So the Sir Galahad coming out of the mediaeval closet sequence, complete with an ueber camp dance routine will have those expecting a carbon copy of the movie - but with more songs- slightly shocked.

The show goes a bit post-modern with its self referential twist a la final sequence in Mel Brooks' Blazing Saddles movie: King Arthur's quest is...to reach 'Theatreland - London's West End'. Kinf of like Brooks' cowboys storming the film set of a movie being shot in Hollywood. Not exactly an original gag but effective enough. It works best when weaved into songs with the female lead. In fact, every song with the female lead was stunning. Played by Hannah Waddingham stole the show - she's worth the ticket price alone.

Verdict: a fun night out. As a footnote, I would recommend getting decent seats. I was in probably the worst seat in the house - in the circle with obscured view. Dire stuff - if the vertigo didn't get me, the neck ache did.

You can't capture the magic of a live show on video - well, none of the crappy clips on YouTube have managed to - so here's a Star Trek/Holy Grail mashup instead.

Another day, another Lucy Pinder shoot

2006-11-15T19:12:00.000Z

Working in consumer PR is really hard. Take today for instance. We had to get up, and hang out all day with sexy cover babe, Lucy Pinder, again. Yes, again. Spending time with her in the cab, at photoshoots, and hanging out with her at various lads mags. It's just not fair. Why can't we do interesting things like accounting or fixing computers?

Lucy is so hot that, apparently, she nearly turned a gay colleague of mine straight. Easy tiger. She also had the guys at Loaded, Maxim, Ice and new online mag Monkey going gaga.

Not only does she help sell more lads mags than any other girl nowadays (5-9% uplift) - A-list stars included - but she's an absolute joy to work with. She was even kind enough to record a video message (see grab, left) for my sister's kid, a lads mag/ueber babe fanatic .

I'm going to turn into a kind PR stalker by factoring Miss Pinder into every single client recommendation from now on. "You're launching a new product? Use Lucy." "You need a venue? Pick anywhere - just put Lucy in it." "You need a cab across town? Why not get Lucy to keep you company? I'll chaperone." She's great. And she's doing good things for my clients, too.

Babyshambles guitarist joins dad?

2006-11-13T19:43:00.000Z

Dad did the clan proud with arguably his best gig on Saturday night, his 32nd year at the Glasgow Pavillion theatre.

"Steak and Kidney" - as he's known north of the border - played to houses Thursday through Saturday packed mainly with old fans but there were some news ones too. There were swathes of the (mainly) over forties (and even a 90-year old lady!) that have grown up with my dad since he started performing at 13 years old. It may have been an older audience than a Kings of Leon gig, but age never stopped me from flirting. Of course I'm sworn to secrecy on this front.

But there was also young totty too. My nephew, Ryan, and I were chatted up in the bar before the show by a young gaggle of gallus Glasgow gals who spotted the family resemblance. Of course, I'm engaged so I couldn't participate in la chasse. However I did help my nephew out with some killer chat up lines, including this little beauty: "Would you like a stalker, gorgeous?"

My gig pics are here at my Phanfare album, and their my finest to date. They're my only ones to date and that is one of the key reasons for their triumph over my previous efforts.

As for the gig itself, this is my first gig review so I imagine it will be excellent. At least in comparison to my previous efforts, that is. However, as I've just used the same gag twice in quick succession, I don't hold out much hope for the bugger. But here goes - I advise you to prceed at extreme caution.

I've got to start with the lighting. It was good. At this point i have to say that I'm not sure this review is going well, but I'd better press on or it'll take all day. The multi-coloured star cloth and nebulae-coloured lights and floating galaxy dust (which may have been stage smoke) reminded me of Juan Atkins' last Model 500 - Deep Space album artwork - the Detroit spacey techno crowd would have loved it.

Any review should mention the band - and I'm not one for rebellion; at this point, I need all the guidance I can get. According to showbiz jargon, Legend - as the band is called - was 'tight'. I won't bore you with individual performances but it is worth mentioning the somewhat cadaverous guitarist, Frankie. Looking like he should have been on stage with Babyshambles, it seemed the only thing keeping Frankie alive on stage were regular shocks from a frayed amp lead.

Altogether more wholesome was the surprise addition of the 50-strong Glasgow Phoenix Choir. Arriving on stage at the end, they really beefed up the sound and ramped up the atmosphere. Their support for the rousing, if not parochial, 'Scotland Forever' finalé had the hairs standing up on my neck, and even on the chin of the old dear in front of me. I couldn't stop making Herr Lipp gags about a giant "Queer" on stage but no-one seemed to laugh.

Of course the show isn't necessarily my kind of music or my scene - far from it, in fact. But that's the thing - it's a family thing. I'd even go and watch my nephews in their various school plays - if they weren't such talentless wretches. But I joke - and the truth is that the old man certainly knows how to entertain. I was absolutely riveted by the show .and dad's voice was better than ever, fragile with emotion at times which reminded me a bit Johnny Cash on the stunning 'Hurt'. Where as my voice sounds like the wails of a dog that's just been cornered by a gang of starving north Koreans. Or even a gang of drunken Scots that can't be bothered to find the nearest dep fried Mars bar.

Anyway, this whole review seems to have gone right off the rails, so perhaps I'll just rush straight on to the plugs. What kind of PR would I be if I didn't slap some plugs onto this little post? So, 1-2 loyal readers, if you're looking for a gift for that special someone this Xmas, forget about whizzy gadgets, forget about Tiffany jewellry, forget about cool clothes; instead, why not plum for some of the following great gifts - a percentage of every one sold goes into my old man's pocket, whencefrom I can attempt to pinch it, and in return buy you a free drink. And - hence - the karmic circle is complete. Anyway, you can choose from an autobiography, or one of two new albums, and a DVD (I think). Each CD sale will help add to his 15 million album sales. What do you mean 'iTunes'? What is an 'iTunes'?

If however, you agree with this venomous bunch's view that big Syd is actually Scotland's worst singer, you many want to buy one of his products anyway - for your enemy. Ah, ever the salesmen, eh? Perhaps it's better if I simply give this whole freakish jig up and get the hell away from this whole way-led, cock-eyed post fast, like some crazed, febrile, naked, dribbling yahoo. Either that, or just take Snagglepuss' advice and exit, stage left.

SANTA CLAWS

2006-11-13T19:08:00.000Z

Ayr, west coast of Scotland, Saturday night. A giant claw knocks on the front door. It belongs to a fresh lobster that my dad's mate, Dredger, caught that day. Dredger's an ordinary fisherman but catches some of the world's best shellfish you can find - so good it finds its way into restaurants in London, Paris and Barcelona - and even Manhattan. And he's brought round a freshly snared lobster. He's the Santa of the sea.

But what to do? I've never cooked one of these monsters before. I've got recipe books - like one of Gordon Ramsay 's - but they all seem to be super-fancy recipes. Whereas I want it as simple as possible - why spoil something so fresh and tasty with other flavours?

So I just do the simple thing: boil it in court buillon and serve it with a simple garlic mayo dip and home made oven chips made from Ayrshire potatoes. Wash it down with a local ale. Simple. Superb. And totally local. Everything consumed came from within 10 miles. No-one else in the family wanted to share the spoils, though - my poor sister even screamed when she saw the lobster in the kitchen sink. I don't blame them for not wanting to eat such amazing food but sadly this is the attitude of many Scots. And thats why, even with one of the world's best natural larders - the finest shell fish, salmon, osyters, mussels, venison, beef, lamb, gorgeous vegetables, beautiful fruit - the country has one of the worst diets in the 'first' world. A diet which has helped earn the west coast of Scotland the unenviable reputation as the world's heart attack capital. The country fails to embrace its best assets.

Worse, despite many Scots failing to really embrace their country's amazing edible assets, many natural food resources are on the brink of disaster. Dredger told me the Ayrshire's fishing fleet stands at a mere 19 boats, almost all sailing from Troon. The Ayr port has long since shut down and nearby Girvan is waning. The fish stocks in the area are all but gone - fished out. Indeed, the prawn industry is keeping what's left of the local fishing industry afloat. But with a decimated eco-system, how long before these prized catches go the way of North Atlantic and North Sea cod stocks?

My strategic solution is this, for what it's worth:

A national campaign spear-headed by HEBS (Health Education Board Scotland) to change the country's eating culture - link with key media partners - promote Scottish food, local, natural food - campaign for healthy eating in the school, the workplace and the home
Curb fishing in areas where stocks are at perilously low levels - create and manage protected marine and animal parks that have proived so successful around the world, such as Australia, Sardinia or closer to home in Northern Ireland
Promote leisure and tourism in marine and animal parks - e.g. seal and whale watching trips and sports activities like Sailing and diving - the climate may seem at certain times of the year an anoyance, but not totally prohbitive

Basically, uh, whatever it takes to help ensure a steady stream of fresh lobster to my plate for years to come.

I'm not your friend

2006-11-08T17:09:00.001Z

Homeless people put up with a lot of shit. They cope with pretty extraordinary circumstances. Yet, just like you never see baby pigeons, you never see homeless people cry. So when I passed one today, bawling his eyes out, I felt compelled to find out why.

Me: “Hey-hey-hey there, big guy, are you ok?”
Homeless guy (crying, a lot): “No, I’m not facking ok, ok?”
Me: “Not sure what I can do, slick, but can I help at all?”
Homeless guy (crying, a lot): “Nathing, you facking cant, unless you can get the facking best facking music vide award off of those facking cants, Justice and Simian, and give it to the facking artist that truly facking deserves it – Kanye.”
Me: “Why should I, pal?”
Homeless guy (crying, a little less): “Because Pamela fackin Anderson was in that video, it cost a facking million, and facking Kanye jumped across a facking canyon.”
Me: “Like Evil Kneivel?”
Homeless guy (snivelling): “Not facking really. Cant.”
Me: “But – dude – have you seen the Justice and Simian video? It like, totally, facking rocks, dude.”

At this point, a thump from nowhere bashed me hard, and I toppled over onto the pavement. I awoke some minutes later, with cartoon birds tweeting around my head. Someone had knocked me out and stuffed something in my mouth: a magazine page of pneumatic pin-up, Pamela Anderson.

Maybe the homeless guy was right. Maybe Kanye was too. Maybe putting Pamela Anderson in his video should have scooped him this year’s best video award at the MTVE VMAs, and not Justice/Simian's "We are your friends".

Maybe that’s why the homeless guy lashed out at me. And maybe that’s why Kanye stormed the stage. Maybe I should stop writing “maybe” over and over again. It’s making me feel suicidal. Why don’t you make up your own mind. Read this crazy mofo - it'll help you figure out this whole badass situation.

Lucy Pinder - News of the World GadgiTs Shoot

2006-11-06T16:34:00.001Z

For work, I set up this photoshoot with Lucy Pinder. I wonder what people think of it?

My colleague Jon managed the shoot. I think it was the best day in Jon's life. Certainly his working life. My colleague Jodie placed the pictures of Lucy in the News of the World - and the Gadgits blog.

Lucy is an absolute phenomenon. When publishers put her on a cover, sales shoot up. One of her videos on YouTube has over 180,000 views. Quite a girl. I don't think that a video of my posing in a bustiere would quite get the same attention. But then again, my man boobs have a way to go until they swell to Lucy's size.

Anyway, working with Lucy's agent was a joy. Next time, I might even get to meet the girl herself.

Leave the kids alone

2006-11-02T21:31:00.000Z

Jim used to say "leave the kid alone". Jim used to take me to go-karts. Showed me how to roller skate. We used to make slides out of piles of matresses spewing out of the back of the truck he drove. Out of all of my sister's boyfriends, I liked Jim the most.

Not only was he generous with his time - he was generous with his spirit. Most of all, he respected me. And he urged others to. I was only 8.

Jim didn't have a degree, but he was smart enough and street-clever. He grasped what most adults failed to then and still fail to now: kids of any age crave and deserve respect.

And this was the very point that the lovely Michelle James, director of marketing for music charity, Music Youth, made at the Marketing Youth conference on Tuesday. Like most of the presentations I caught that day, Michelle's was full of utterly interesting information if not a thoroughly captivating delivery. That is, until she went off script - to express a very personal view of how Britain is treating it's children. Suddenly, she became far more engaging than any other speaker that day.

Michelle argued that, as a nation, we're starting to completely stop respecting our youth, with disastrous consequences. She should know. Broadly, Michelle's charity works with extremely disadvantaged youth. Kids from broken homes, patchy educations, even ex-criminals. The one thing that each kid has in common, says Michelle, is that have all suffered from respect neglect. This is no tinpot issue. Forensic psychology long ago discovered the link between respect and crime.

Michelle argued that the media's awful, dramatic portrayal of all UK kids as "hoodie thugs" bent on wrecking Britain is become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Hell yeah, Michelle, finally someone said it. And at a marketing conference of all places. High five, girl.

Pick up any British newspaper, quality or tabliod, any day of the week, and you'll find them screaming about some kind of impending social apocalypse - with teenage Brits cast as the four horsemen.

Take today's Daily Mail,for instance. "ASBO DEFAULTERS GET OFF SCOT-FREE", shrieked one headline. This scary-haired harridan of a newspaper neatly twisted statistics to make teens the focus of the story - ASBOs (Anti Social Behaviour Disorders) are neither exclusively handed out to teens, nor do they necessarily carry a jail sentence. Indeed, they're as likely to be issued to a Daily Mail reader letting their trees grow into a neighbouring garden as a teenager on a street corner. It wasn't the only Mail story ntoday to show such downright disrespect to nation's youth - as well as its own readers by manipulating the facts to such an extent.

According to the mid-market tabloid, a "68 YR OLD WOMAN KICKED OUT (of a restaurant) FOR WEARING A HOOD." It interviewed the woman, who claimed that she would “in no way call (her top) a hoodie”. The implication was that she was treated like a common thugish teenager - a second class citizen. Another Mail headline, still in today's paper shouted "BLAIR: CHILDREN NEED DISCIPLINE", while another lamented that it's now "OK 2 USE YXT ANSRS N XAMS". The latter article implies that teenagers themselves have relentlessly driven down the country's once-proud education standards.

More disturbingly, the Daily Mail wholelsale labels teenagers as "teenage tearaways", "yobs" and "teen thugs." It relentlessly implies that British youth is contaminating the country. Doesn't that sound a little like a syphilitic chap called Adolph a few years back? And this is the paper that informs, educates and entertains about 6 million Britons every day. Forget what we are teaching or kids for a moment, and consider this: what the hell are we teaching our adults?

Perhaps we should force all mail readers through a re-endoctrination scheme, developed by none other than Save The Hoodie campaigner, Lady Sovereign. At least until they agree to start respecting the massive chunk of the country's population that they continually diss. Peace, out!

The PR Kingdom

2006-10-26T11:42:00.000+01:00

Two thirds into Ballard's latest offering, Kingdom Come, and it's tripping all kinds of ideas. But it's a genuinely sinister one that's got me quite excited.

The idea is about a contract killing agency and set up specifically for corporate killings. It examines the increasingly competitive nature of the workplace, and was part inspired by an agency I used to work.

This previous agency introduced and fostered a "cock fight" culture; colleagues were pushed and pressured to compete with each other. And this resulted in many quality staff leaving.

Though in-house competitiveness is rife anyway, I like the idea of stretching this to an extreme. Whereas Bret Easton Ellis' Patrick Bateman kills Paul Owen in American Psycho in a bid to win a major banking account, my idea sees this kind of behaviour becoming common place.

Indeed, turning a colleague into hamburger to gain their job, or slicing and dicing a competitor to help win a bit of business becomes the equilibrium, rather like the bizarre trend of teenage suicide in Micronesia.

Driving this will be a shady security agency that emerged in the wake of security paranoia following early 21st century terrorist attacks. I have worked with such a security agency, although in no way would they condone this kind of killing, corporate or otherwise. I fancy this as a book, play, movie, or - hey, why not? - all three. Will I actually get around to writing it? Will even get around to finishing the Ballard book? Probably no to the former, but yes to the latter at least. I can barely get round to buying medicine to ease the suffering of this damned, shit cold.

Celebrity dada report

2006-10-24T10:44:00.000+01:00

Celebrity coverage is getting worse. More sections of the media cover 'celeb' 'news', but in parallel to this, the quality of celebs reported on is getting worse. We're subjected to a daily diet of so-called celebrities (Sam Branson - famous for having a famous dad) and maggots of uninteresting gossip about their lives (Lindsay Lohan doesn't wear underwear!!!! Sometimes!!!). And, as a result, celebrity news is becoming duller.

Indeed, without "Mucca-gate" or George Michael's self hash-assination, we'd be forced to live off the maggots created by junkie poet Pete Doherty's latest "smokes crack, again" 'scandal'.

Popbitch used to entertain with it's bitchy tone, but no longer does. Holy Moly blew the 'Bitch out of the water with it's more vicious, visceral take on celebrity minutae. But now it just sounds like the puny rants of shriveled and bitter man. The problem is, almost every publicaiton covering celebrity suffers from the same problem: they care too much about celebrity to truly entertain. They care too much about a shit flood of z-listers who are famous for merely being orange (Peter Andre), having fake boobs (Jordan), or for mingling with celebrities for a few weeks (Chantelle). They need to learn to detach themselves from the foul creatures that sell their rags. They need to take a leaf out of the Superficial's book.

This superb celebrity gossip site It has the irreverance of Vice magazine, the obsessiveness of Avid Merrion, yet the detachment and humilty of a Buddhist monk. The best thing about it is that it is picture-driven (eye-yum) and the comments display gonzo-like, first person takes on the action. It's not the gossip some mole teased out that's important, it's the editorial take on them. The headlines parody fame-worship neatly with dull facts such as "Diddy needs to pee" or "Beyonce knows how to lose weight" kick ass, too.

But if even the 'ficial won't do, then you can pig out on my own take on celebrity reporting, with this occasional column - The Dadaist Sleb Spot:

Lindsay Lohan's unclad vag to get own movie
Lindsay Lohan has been baring her 'modesty' to the paparazzi so much that the 'shaven haven' is to star in its own blockbuster movie. The untitled project will follow the adventures of Lohan's unclad vagina as it travels the world, fighting for survival...and column inches. It appears that when it comes to new offers, Lindsay's furry cup runneth over.

Roonaldo's £80m to battle Roobie's £80m - to the death
Wayne Rooney's £80m projected fortune is set to take on Robbie Williams, err, £80m projected fortune - in a filthy tabloid battle to the death. Both fortunes are said to be livid that they are the same amount in the press - not a penny more, or less.

Rooney's projected fortune called its agent today and - in a fit of pique - fired him. However, the fortune reinstated the agent minutes later when he threatened to reveal whose tills the fortune had been in recently. Insiders say these tills include the 080 Granny Go-Go Club in Liverpool's seedy Reeperbahn* district.

With Rooney unable to score on the pitch, his projected contract value was expected to notch up a much-needed win for the mature prostitute-loving footballer's camp. The news of the tie with Williams' projected fortune however, came as a blow. In a subsequent rage, the fortune challenged lonely, talentless misfit Williams' estimated EMI contract value to a deadly duel. The battleground is purported to be this Sunday's News of the Screws. The weapons of choice? Fantastical, poorly-researched journalism.

Prince's privates in drug quiz
Wayward Nazi-costumed German 'ginga', Prince Harry, is innocent this time - but his privates aren't. The army cadet's 'crown jewels' are said to be in police custody for questioning, following a night out in a club renowned for drug use.

A source inside the Sandhurst barracks where Harry is training, said that the nightclub is a "known drug den" where "practically anyone can buy every drug going - even the fresh pineal gland of a young virgin."

Eyewitness reports say that his young majesty's 'pleasure organ' was hanging out in the nightclub when drug squad officers raided it Saturday night. The police have yet to issue a statement related to the royal member.

Kate pregnant with Pete's dealer
A filthy matress is the latest member of junkie poet Pete Doherty's inner circle to sell its story to the British tabloids. And its allegations will rock Moss and Doherty - with claims that the so-called unfit mother is pregnant with Doherty's drug dealer. Apparently Doherty told Kate that he couldn't wait for her "to pop (the baby out)" so he can "have his hit (drug slang for injecting heroin)." The mattress claims to have overheard the shocking conversation when Doherty was in bed with Kate earlier tomorrow morning.

Paris' weed: I used Paris for sex
The bag of weed that Paris Hilton has in her purse has confessed that it has used the internet porn star for sex. The weed, thought to be of the 'Chronic' variety favoured by LA gang bangers, forced Paris to have wild sex with men and film it.

The revelations will shock the goose-footed heiress , famed for having millions handed to her on a plate without working, and for taking the piss out of people who actually do work for a living. Like me. I'm not bitter.

Wicked Whisperers
Which celebrity gossip mole with a hairy mole on her lip has trained a mole to infiltrate celebrity parties and report back amazing gossip for her daily tabloid star worship bile-fest? Clue: I'm making this up.

Big Bird and the monsters

2006-10-19T20:26:00.000+01:00

Shit happens. You go to the four corners of the world searching for him and you get like you don't believe he exists.

Then as a last resort you go to Venice when you're herded onto a floating graveyard, shambling its way to a festering Rialto bridge, grim with clouds of tourist-flies.

You're covering your eyes with your hands and thinking of ending it all right there when - flash - you take your hands away and you see him like a vision.

Wearing nothing but a God-beard, Big Bird t-shirt and the fattest braces in the whole of the land, it's all he needs to wear. It doesn't matter becuase he's here and he's found you and the bridge is like Lego gone good and the monsters of destiny are quiet again.

School grinners

2006-10-19T19:05:00.000+01:00

He MAY talk like his tongue is swollen with the sting of a thousand bees, but Jamie Oliver is the inspiration for my latest Dead Ringers sketch.

SLAMS BREAKS. Whoa. Wait. I'm getting a little ahead of myself there. To rewind a little, I'm trying to get into writing comedy. I'm targeting my first batch at Dead Ringers.

However, I've never submitted any comedy sketches to any show before so I might be being naíve. So what's wrong with that? At least I'm competing work: I've drafted about 8 sketches now and none of them make me want to kill myself. They just make me want to strangle the idiot that wrote them. Oh.

Ok, I know, I have a non-existent portfolio. I have no 'whites', or screen credits. And Dead Ringers may be aiming high. But why aim low?

Sometimes I get that manic depression symptom* where I read the material and think "Holy shit! You've cracked it man! You can outwrite them all! This isn't comedy - it's genius. Terrific, terifying genius!", and love the material so much I want to rip the words off the laptop screen and kiss each and every one of them. Then, other times I read them and sink into a deep melancholy, where I want the words to jump out of the screen and beat me to a pulp for me putting them together in such a lame, insulting way.

When I'm crisp and even, though, I look at the sketches, or skits as my American buddies call 'em , reckon they have potential. Need some work, but have potential. And at that moment, I desperately want to see them make it onto the screen one day soon. Why wouldn't I? There the funniest things I've seen in a long time.

Honey, I shrunk the Didds!

2006-10-17T20:49:00.000+01:00

Finally we have evidence that Hollywood shrink fiend, Rick Moranis, has started shrinking hip hop's A-list. As you can see in the picture, left, twisted Moranis has shrunk the Godfather of bling himself, P Diddy, to under 2 feet tall.

Rick you bastard! Where will your crazy shrinking binge end? Can you please not shrink hip hop's blingest?

What's the problem here, Rik? Wasn't waiting for Dozer the Traveler enough for you? Singing country music doesn't upset enough people you gotta upset some more? You gotta bring a rap giant down to knee height?

Well listen buddy, no thanks to you we're gonna solve this diddy Diddy problem. Yeah. We've called in wonder woman herself to the rescue: selfish careerist Madonna. If anyone can build that Diddy up into a mountain of a man who no-one in the world wil fail to notice, it's her.

Indeed, by putting mini-Diddy into care with the Juicy Couture-clad living cadaver, we can practically guarantee that he'll never want for attention again. Of course, it won't be the normal, loving, attentive care that any normal kid'll receive. No way, Slick - it's far better than that. It's a paparrazzi-scrum-every-day, 24-7-media-coverage, looked-after-by-a-team-of-yes-men kind of attention.

So shrink away, Moranis, we got the solution locked down.

Thanks to Perez Hilton for the image.

Reuters in Wonderland

2006-10-16T13:35:00.000+01:00

Hey yo, I'm virtual Pather Man, and I just bought my digitised Adidas at the pixelated sneaker store. Who, you ask? Where, you enquire? Second Life, yo, that's where.

News agency, Reuters, is opening a virtual bureau there, according to rival, BBC online. Is the world going a bit too Alice in Wonderland? Second Life's virtual inhabitants are represented by avatars - they may be digitised likenesses of users, or total chimeras.

Check it: I could create a virtual Scot with a polar bear's head, Elle MacPherson's boobies, Robocop's arms, an eagle's legs and, like, dress in virtual, see-through tutu. Or something like that. Question is, would I want to?

As my vast* network of friends and contacts will attest, I'm bad enough at maintaining my own real world community let alone a new, virtual one. As much as I love new technology, gadgets and even - zoiks - blogs, I'm just not a fan of simulations like Second Life.

The artist in me needs something tangible, touchable and authentic. I'd rather see a zebra on the savannah than transform myself into Zebra Boy on the grid. Different strokes for different folks.

Opening a virtual office in Second Life seems to be exciting certain businesses, however. Sports wear brands and car brands alike are setting out their digital stalls there. And communications businesses - like Text 100 - perhaps see opening a virtual Second Life office as vital brand behaviour: despite all other evidence to the contrary, it is meant to say that they have their finger on the pulse.

If you, like me, are not ready to enter this version of a brave new world, amuse yourself with this link to the MTV Music Video Awards spoof Matrix parody.

Wall Street goes pop: "Impossible is nothing"

2006-10-16T12:07:00.000+01:00

It's the kind of video that makes you snort whatever it is you're drinking out of nostrils. And even better that it's city banker CV-gone-pop culture.

It was taken off of YouTube pending legal action but now it's back up here. It's the unintentionally hilarious CV video of a wannabee Wall Street slicker and full time alpha male, Aleksey Vayner.

And what a specimen he is. Marvel as he lifts a whopping 495-pound weight. Thrill as he serves a tennis ball at a super-fast 140mph. Amaze as he performs a rather impressive rotating jump while skiing (this may be a fake clip). And - deep breath - swoon as he ballroom dances with a half-naked babe whilst dressed in skin tight black all-in-one suit (not strictly all-in-one, but makes better copy). The video finishes with Aleksey smashing a pile of bricks with one hand. It's cringe-poetry in motion.

I imagine that, just like Rex in Napoleon Dynamite, he can defend himself with the strength of a grizzly, has the reflexes of a puma, and the wisdom of a man, too. Well, maybe not the wisdom.

Potential Wall Street employers allegedly put the video online, and - boom - started a blog storm that doesn't look like it's going away any time soon. It's schadenfreude on a massive level - and I just love schadenfreude, baby.

Pop post of the day: Bow wow chow

2006-10-15T22:10:00.000+01:00

A mole has leaked Iggy Pop's rider to The Smoking Gun. It's not the bizarre requests that get the laughs here - it's the gags written into the rider by its author, not to mention Iggy's bizarre reality TV show pitch.

Iggy reckons any TV execs reading the rider online might start a bidding war for his show that sees dog lovers cook and eat dead pooches. Reminds me a little of the grim opening chapter in JG Ballard's stunning High Rise, in which the lead character is...well I'll let you read it yourself.

If the currently gigging Iggy has his wicked way - bow wow chow might be the next big thing in TV dinners.

And it brings a whole new light to the ageing hipster's song, "I wanna be your dog". Woof.

Dark Side press conference

2006-10-15T22:03:00.000+01:00

Just back from Venice and catching up but just enough time to squeeze in a nice pop-meets-PR post. This Star Wars spoof clip kicks off with an Imperial press conference. I have to commend the press officer's dark side spin; however double props to the actor who plays the recruitment agent. Check it out.

My Venice report will follow tomorrow - sit tight.

The artist and sleep

2006-10-11T10:46:00.000+01:00

An artist friend from New York is in town, and is working at the awesome Scope art fair which opens today.

We hung out last night and I'm suffering for it today. Talking about old times, partying times, the rock and roll times. I discovered that it's hard to talk about pre-career, non-stop partying and then slink off to bed at 9pm with a cup of cocoa and a sudoku puzzle - whatever that is. No ways - you gotta re-live it - rock and roll. So check it out, yo - I crashed into my crib this morning at 4am.

Fortunately, my company's founders inadvertently saved my bacon today by kicking the morning off with one of their excellent , regular breakfast sessions. As I tore into an absolute feast of a breakfast - a traditional "full English" - at the plush Goring hotel, a small group of us discussed new ideas to further improve our growing agency. This got the day off to a cracking start - a bellyful of hearty food and a head fizzing with new ideas. It's raining buckets outside, and I'm a missing a few hours of REM, but things are fine and good enough. And that's about all anyone can ask for.

What would you do to avoid listening to the Darkness?

2006-10-10T18:53:00.001+01:00

Phew, I've just finished Popjustice's annual poll, in a bid to win a stack of CDs the same height as me.

Questions included: "Do you buy pop star's mp3 or CD simply because you 'want to kiss them'?" and "Would you rather bum Justin Hawkins than listen to the Darkness' second album?" Uh, yes to the former, no to the latter. Honest. Tough decision, really. But I admit it, I do buy Sugababes' CDs because I want to kiss them - and my restraining order attests to that.

The Popjustice poll is much better than DJ magazine's annual top 100 DJ poll. A fact underlined by techno whizz Dave Clarke who says that the DJ poll issue is his least favourite. Or perhaps more poignantly still by Future Publishing who have just put the magazine up for sale - as reported in this week's Skruff emailer.

Either way, answering questions on how badly I want to see Abba reform (really quite badly) and whether Robbie is a bigger penis than Johnny Borrell (you'd think it's be easy to answer, but it isn't) brought much-needed relief to writing an utterly sober client media training brief ahead of a national TV breakfast interview. So long live pop. Long live justice. Long live Popjustice.

The mission: emission omission

2006-10-10T14:38:00.000+01:00

Tree Flights is a new service that will plant trees in Wales to offset your carbon emissions, and I read about it here, at Ask Pablo's latest Triple Pundit post about the impact of various forms personal transit on the enviromnent. Thanks to global warming, the enviromnent (debate) is certainly heating up.

I frigging love you(tube)

2006-10-10T13:55:00.000+01:00

And so does the rest of the world. And that includes Google, who of course bought the scarily fast-growing interweb video sharing site today for a hefty $1.65bn.

I love YouTube for work as this video shows, and I love it for play. I'm a slobbering you-tube-aniac. I want a channel on it. I want my company to have a channel on it. I want clients to have a channel on it. And I want it mobile. I want to be able to see it on mobile browsers like Opera.

Maybe Google can help make the mobile bit happen. I hope so. And I also hope I can stop being so sycophantic about You Tube. That kind of techno-worship is almost embarrasing. But not as embarrassing as walking around in a t-shirt with streaks of today's lunch on it but that's another story and one I won't be sharing. Oops.

Science of slapstick

2006-10-09T16:52:00.000+01:00

I've found out how to make people laugh. Thanks to experts at the University of Sydney, I can now reveal the 'science' of slapstick comedy:

Juxtaposition of compatible to incompatible concepts is key
It's not the falling off a tightrope – it’s the trying to stay on
It's not the falling down – but the process of trying to stay upright
Same concept applies to jokes:

E.g. the prisoner who plays cards with warden, cheats and gets kicked out of prison for winning by foul play

Fortunately I haven't submitted my new sketch ideas to Dead Ringers yet. Now I can apply the above rules to make my sleep-inducing skits more engaging. And who knows - maybe even funny.

Collaborate on collaboration culture book

2006-10-09T16:00:00.000+01:00

According to Open, Mekon-looking management thinker Charles Leadbetter has published his entire new book, called We-Think, about collaboration culture, on a website and is inviting comments to help mould the final version. Viva collaboration, I guess.

Brush up on your Kylie

2006-10-09T15:36:00.000+01:00

Trendy London karaoke bar Lucky Voice has just launched a voice coaching service. So if you fancy being trained by Will Young’s vocal coach, Lucky Voice makes it easier than ever.

C'est chic, boutique (hotel)

2006-10-09T14:16:00.000+01:00

Urban Planning links to a new hotel with 30 individually-designed rooms.

The Propeller Island City lodge in super-hip Berlin is a "work of art" featuring rooms and objects individually designed by German artist, Lars Stroschen.

Unlike my apartment, which looks like it was designed by Stig of the Dump

Bonkers conkers competition

2006-10-09T10:56:00.000+01:00

This is what British sport is really about: eccentric, traditional and often downright brutal sports like 'conkers'. The World Conker Championships took place in Ashton, Northamptonshire, this weekend. I'm thoroughly gutted that I missed the chance to take part in it and snap away at it. I raced back to the area yesterday from Malvern but - alas - too late.

The sport may be totally bonkers but I say preserve it. Alongside other British classics such as cheese rolling and bog snorkelling.

I'm always on the lookout for opps to team my PR clients up with these eccentric 'sports'. Ben & Jerrys sponsor the Conler champs, though I don't know if they do anything interesting with the property. So I'm issuing an appeal here and now to JCB & Trek bikes. JCB could massively scale up the conker champs: how about a demolition ball conkers tournament for Top Gear or Saturday Night Takeaway. Or how about 'man versus cheese' for Trek: the cycle brand could pit its latest downhill mountain bike against Britain's 'fastest cheese' for a feature in Loaded magazine - or simply to create a funny viral video.

Picking magic mushrooms, seeing giant pandas

2006-10-09T09:58:00.000+01:00

I was sure that I had been chomping wild chanterelles until I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a giant panda. At that point, I began to wonder instead if I was gobbling down magic mushrooms and had already started tripping mildly.

Inspired by this month’s Men’s Health feature on free foods and armed with my SAS survival book, the missus and I were foraging to collect naturally growing food.

Having collected nettles, elderflower and rosehips to make soups and teas, we headed to where it's warm and moist for a bit of 'shrooming. And on one hillside alone, we were spoiled by an absolute embarrassment of wild, edible mushrooms to turn into double tasty soups, pasta sauces, and risotto dishes. Mushrooms taste magic, particularly when they're freshly picked and local.

With the food miles debate raging, the organic movement in full swing, and the environment reaching the top of the agenda there's never been a better time to raid nature's larder. This is nothing new, apparently. Fergus Drennan, for instance, has been foraging for years. Indeed - he's a professional who offers courses in how to find food even in city centre parkland (e.g. London's Wandsworth Common). He also supplies some of London's top restaurants, including the Ivy and Jamie Oliver's Fifteen. You can also take tips from the master himself, Richard Mabey, whose "Food for Free" book is a foraging bible.

Thinking from a professional perspective, my favourite organic food shop, Fresh and Wild could tap into the foraging buzz by starting up local foraging clubs. The Battersea branch, for instance, is ideally placed for both Clapham and Wandsworth commons. Herbal remedy brand Neal's Yard could do the same. Or local papers around the UK could start a 'free food' campaign, with seasonal guides and maps on where locals can literally 'pick their own'.

As for the panda, turns out it wasn't a hallucination, after all. It was a 'manda' - a man panda, i.e. a man in a panda suit. The fella was guiding a group of kids around the Malvern hills. I don't know why he was doing this in a panda suit, as pandas aren't native to the area. Perhaps he had gobbled his own funky funghi and thus the Malverns became a forest in Southwest China. And why not? I guess a panda suit and a pretend forest is as good it gets when the mushrooms are free, fresh and magic.

There goes the rut

2006-10-09T09:36:00.000+01:00

I missed the rut, dagnammit, but did manage to snatch some shots of stags trying to knock down tasty chestnuts with their antlers.

It's time to rut

2006-10-06T17:31:00.000+01:00

I've given my all to PR this week. And thanks to my efforts, the world definitely has more PR in it. Actually - it could have less, but: a) it's not for my trying, and; b) I have no wish to measure it.

Either way, I need to recede. Not follicly, of course. My mane will remain the usual kinky folly perched on top of my dumb dome. No I'm receding from the front lines of consultancy to melt into the background of countryside.

It's time for the rut. Male deer are getting frisky and it's time for the ultimate stag party. And I intend to see this full-on nature porn at its rawest. Never seen it before so off to Rockingham Forest with my favourite girl (my trusty Canon EOS 350D) and my fiancé. Well, I need someone to help change my lenses. Ta-boom. Having captured racing camels in Northampton (not a student smoking competition), I'm looking for a more, uh, natural nature photo opp.

So whilst the youth - and possibly even the randy age-d - of London gears up for the usual weekend orgy of sex and violence, I'm off the watch violent animal sex in the country.

"You'll eat food made from sawdust!"

2006-10-06T16:51:00.000+01:00

What better way to kick off my new blog about pop culture* that affects my world than with a story about travlling to work on rocket ships and eating Michelin-star meals made from sawdust? This article via the awesome MAKE magazine blog takes a retro look at how fifties visionaires saw the future in 2000 A.D. Anyway, enough babbling: it's lunchtime, so it's on with the x-ray specs and onto the hoverboard and down to Pret-a-Danger for some vaccuum-packed moon food.

*Since my Travelogue blog has fallen asleep (I stopped travelling and started saving for a flat) and my straightforward PR blog has gotten gristly (there are too many PR blogs saying the same thing).