Category: Grim

Avatar The People vs the solo Spice Girls discography

Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, you have heard the evidence presented to you and yet I am duty-bound to go over it one more time so that you are aware of the heinous crimes that have been committed.

When the Spice Girls split, it created five solo careers. Five very different and yet equally awful solo careers. We have had to endure the outputs of these solo careers for over three decades now and it’s about time each and every one of them is brought to justice.

Let’s start with the best of the five, Emma Bunton. Apart from that weird one where she starts singing about sucking you off all night and that sub-par cover of Downtown, Bunton remains the least offensive. She has a warm voice and her discography is a lot better than it should be. ‘Maybe’ remains a genuinely decent song. There are a lot of singles from her past that aren’t anything to be embarrassed about.

The same, however, cannot be said for Mel B. The only reason she isn’t higher on this list is because of the frequency of her singles is significantly lower than some others. Absolute stinkers like ‘Want You Back’ and her stitched together with string and cellotape cover of ‘Word Up’ by Cameo stick long in the brain and not for good reasons. Perhaps she knew that singing wasn’t her strong point and thus gave up quick sharpish. The over polished American R & B smear that appears on most of her singles makes her sound like every other R & B singer during that era. Time has not been good to our Mel.

The same also cannot be said for Victoria Beckham. Less a singer and more a millionaire’s daughter who decided she wanted to be a singer one day, if you don’t count the autotuned-to-within-an-inch-of-its-life ‘Out of your Mind’ with True Steppers and Dane Bowers, she only has three singles to her name. Do you want some really sh*t rapping over a ballad? Becks has you covered with ‘A Mind of it’s Own’. Are you interested in someone singing a terrible Kylie b-side at you? Try ‘This Groove’. Every single feels as though they made the video first and cobbled a song together around it. You have to stick to what you know. It’s a good job she’s a fashion icon and also has a millionaire husband otherwise she’d be bored senseless.

We’re down to the dregs and you know where we’re going. She has eight (count em’) albums to her name although I doubt any of you would have heard anything past the second one. Mel C almost almost took the crown from you know who because her crimes are numerous. On her first album she covered as many genres as possible including rock (Going Down), pop (Northern Star), twinkle-shafting R & B (Never be the Same Again) and Ibiza club nonsense (I Turn to You) without mastering any of them. She then went a bit alternate with the second album, probably doing an Avril Lavigne thing, which was the style at the time. If we could give an award for trying then Mel would get it. I’m sure if we had enough time there’s probably a lot to like in her later stuff and she does seem like a lovely person. Still, strength of character is not on the stand today. Personality is not being judged here. What’s being judged is keeping Bryan Adams in the public consciousness and ‘When You’re Gone’ continues to dominate certain easy listening radio stations. That cannot be forgiven. Canada thinks we’ve forgotten, but we haven’t.

I’m going to come out and say it; Geri Halliwell’s career is the worst. Think I’m joking? She only has nine singles to her name. Nine singles! It feels like more because they’re that terrible, ladies and gentlemen. Once you get past the go get ’em sassiness of first release ‘Look at Me’ you’re left with disturbingly bad anglo-Spanish your mum’s holiday video ‘Mi Chico Latino’, so unmemorable and by the numbers you’d think it was written for an advert ‘Lift Me Up’, feminist anthem but nobody was listening ‘Bag it up’, I left my switchblade on the bus but I’ll happily cut off my ears with this oyster card before I ever touch this again cover of ‘It’s Raining Men’, my five year old wrote some words on a paper that rhyme so make it a song ‘Calling’, another Kylie b-side but worse than Victoria’s if you can believe it ‘Ride It’, Emma’s doing a 60’s thing so I’m going to copy her shamelessly ‘Desire’ and the puke-inducing generic song about driving and probably talking about sex too ‘Scream If You Wanna Go Faster’.

I need to sit down. It’s all too much for me. Remembering is fun but not today. I hereby condemn all five Spice Girls solo careers (okay, we’ll let Emma Bunton off).

Avatar Newsboost – celebrity sunshine science shroud

The world has been shocked today by the news that former X-Factor winner Shayne Ward has been caught trying to cover up the sun with tinfoil.

Tameside police were called to the singer’s luxury mansion in Stockport on Saturday afternoon following reports from neighbours that a huge ladder situated in his back garden was temporarily blotting out the sun from their gardens during the recent heat wave. Upon entering the premises, officers discovered that it wasn’t the ladder but Mr. Ward himself balanced at the top of the ladder trying to wrap the sun in tinfoil of all things.

“I’ve seen a lot of things working as a policewoman in Manchester but this tops the lot,” says Fairweather Skindle, one of the first to arrive on the scene. “It seemed like celebrity madness what with the crazy temperatures we were experiencing. If it wasn’t Shayne Ward blocking the sun with a ladder it could easily be, I don’t know, Ricky Hatton throwing bowling shoes at swans. Anything is possible.”

Mr. Ward was taken into custody shortly after 2pm. His solicitor arrived at the police station half an hour later with one of those sexy summer coffees from Starbucks and half a watermelon, carved into reasonably-sized slices.

The unusual nature of the “crime” has called into question whether or not the defendant was actually committing any misconduct given that nobody was hurt, nothing was stolen, everyone was fine and we all went out for ice creams afterwards.

We consulted with Sedgwick Robust, a physicist who works up the road from where our building is.

“Not taking into account the sanity of the person undertaking the act, based on my calculations you would need approximately 676,444,444,444,444.444444444444444 rolls of foil to cover the entirety of the sun. This would be assuming that you were using extra long foil, measuring 30m by 30cm.”

(We were going to ask for the calculations using regular sized tinfoil and decided against it.)

“As well as this, due to the extreme surface temperature, the aluminium would have melted long before Mr. Ward ever made it to the sun. He would also have died too because if he didn’t suffocate from the lack of air then he would have fried from the intense heat. There isn’t a known material that has a high enough melting point that could allow you to get near to or cover the sun.”

We’re not even sure how much money it would cost in order to buy that many rolls of tinfoil. Not even a crazy billionaire would want to foot that bill and certainly Inside Soap Award’s ‘Best Newcomer’ and TV Choice Award’s ‘Best Soap Newcomer’, both from 2016, wouldn’t think to do so.

We here at Newsboost all hope that this was merely a misunderstanding and wish Mr. Ward a swift recovering (and possibly one of those watermelon slices).

Avatar Blame game

Recently Ian invited us to try blaming it on the spicy margs. It seemed like a good idea so I had a go.

I am now in a positon to report my results.

Experiment 1

Early last week I needed to go to the supermarket. On arrival I ran straight to the meal deal fridges, barged some other customers out of the way, and started chugging own-brand banana milkshakes one after another, throwing the empty bottles on the floor behind me. When the security guard apprehended me and asked what I was doing I wafted my mouth like I was suffering severe heat burns and told him it was because of the spicy margs.

Result: banned from Sainsbury’s, Water Lane, Farnham. The phrase “spicy margs” not understood by Group 4 security personnel even on the third or fourth time of repeating it.

Experiment 2

On Friday last week I got the train to work without buying a ticket. When the conductor arrived and asked to see my ticket I told him I hadn’t got one. When he asked why not I said it was because of the spicy margs.

Result: £49 penalty fare. Spicy margs not applicable under railway bylaws.

Experiment 3

Two days ago, I went over to the shared kitchen area at work and found a woman making a round of tea for her colleagues. Maintaining eye contact throughout, I pushed all the mugs of tea onto the floor, where some of them smashed and the tea went everywhere. She jumped backwards, since her feet were now covered in very hot tea, catching her skirt on a drawer handle and sustaining some minor damage to her attire. She asked me what the hell I thought I was doing. I told her it was because of the spicy margs.

Result: employment tribunal pending. Union legal representative advises me that spicy margs are not a defence under the terms of my employer’s code of conduct.

Conclusion

Blaming it on the spicy margs is terrible advice. I will not be spending £14.99 on the framed art print that Ian was advertising.

Avatar Ba-na-nay-nay

I woke up on Thursday with a specific purpose. I didn’t know that purpose until I got to work later on that morning.

I was sat next to wor Geoff, who’s always got something interesting to say. We were chatting about interesting jobs and he mentioned bananas.

“Bananas? What do you mean?” I asked. It turns out that on his breaks wor Geoff likes to browse the Internet and goes down rabbit holes of various topics depending on how he’s feeling that day. He mentions that apparently there is a job called an authorised banana weigher. I scoff at such a prospect but a little Google later and I find the details on gov.uk website. There IS a job where you are a person who is officially authorised to weigh bananas. I excitedly scan through the page looking for the details on how to become one and reach a list. In order to become one you have to:

  • have no record of infringement or repeated infringements of customs and tax legislation
  • provide assurance that weighing operations will be performed correctly
  • have access to appropriate and maintained weighing equipment
  • maintain accurate records so customs can carry out controls
  • give customs advanced notice of all weighing operations

It’s beautiful. I can do all of this. All I need is some proper weighing scales and I am golden. I’m about to click on the link to fill the form in, well on my way to being an official banana weigher, and my eyes drift back over the list. I’ve missed one. There’s a fairly important one that I must have glazed over.

  • be involved in the import, carriage, storage or handling of fresh bananas

Boo! Booooo! How am I gonna start importing banana? I’ve got no contacts in the banana industry. I can’t fill in a form and start walking around in big shoes, I have to *actually* do something outside of my comfort zone.

Crestfallen, I close the page and return to my job. The excitement has gone. I will never be fully authorised to weigh my bananas, your bananas or anyone’s bloody bananas.

Avatar A criminal act

Sorry to end the month on a downer, but I think this has to be shared.

I no longer eat at the canteen at work. The reasons are varied, and include steadily deteriorating portion sizes, a reduction in options and eye watering prices. The thing that finally put paid to my days as an occasional canteen customer, though, was this.

This was sold as a Yorkshire pudding.

I don’t know what it was made of or how it was produced. It was not a Yorkshire pudding. It neither looked nor tasted like one. And even leaving aside the hideous insult this presents to my homeland, and taking it only on the merits of it being a foodstuff someone had prepared, it was pretty much inedible. Somehow its creator had created a substance that was simultaneously chewy and inedibly hard.

Anyway, it was a little while ago now and I’m not nearly as upset as I was, but I will be referring the matter to the police all the same.

Avatar Trouble at the Winston

It’s finally happening. You know that venerable old videoconferencing system Microsoft has produced for years? You know the one that changed the world of video chat. No? The one EVERYONE used to use… right up until the point that the world went to shit and everyone needed to video call people? No not Zoom… Skype! Yes Skype, the underappreciated grand master of video calling. Well not for much longer…

As reported by ARS Technica skype is going to be put to sleep on 5th May after 21 years serving the VPC (Virtual Pub Community). Sad times.

It seems like we are going to be able to move to teams with personal accounts, which is nice, but what are we going to do without the incessant ‘tech titting’ or the random interjections of an animated prawn? I’ve tried it and I can sign in to Teams with my outlook.com account, although it hasn’t brought across any of the old chats, which the article suggested it should.

It truly will be the end of an era. How do you feel about the death of an icon (even if it is a pretty crappy one)?

Avatar Ian’s holiday snaps – #3

Do you feel like a mystery today? I think you’re looking for a mystery and I’ve got exactly what you need.

As I wandered the barren desolate wasteland of Florida, in the hopes of finding something worthy of my time (tad over dramatic, I know) I kept noticing these signs dotted around the place. I saw some on a highway as we drove to a mall one morning and there were also some lurking around the massive McDonalds.

Who keeps leaving these signs? What kind of website are they proposing? Why are there no details or pictures? Who would be insane enough to give money to a random stranger advertising on the corner of a McDonalds?

I kept imagining some sort of lummox on the other end of the phone and he would spin a wheel for every customer. Whatever the wheel would land on, that’s the website you got. You didn’t have a say in the matter and if you tried to he would send the “website boys” round for a little “chat”.

I’ll never get answers to my questions and, settling into my chair at home, thousands of miles away from website man / woman and their shady empire, I’m quite content to leave it that way.

Avatar Newsboost – Improper perfume positioned for prosperity

Shock news from across the water as a new perfume is about to hit the market with a familiar smell that may turn your stomach.

Australian nose fondling magnate, Winter de Socket, will soon be releasing a fragrance that harnesses the essence of faeces in a move which has confounded critics and befuddled just about everyone else.

“It’s all about turning that notion on its head,” said de Socket at a recent promotional event, “the idea that something is bad. Oh, you can look at something and dismiss it as uncool, pathetic or sad then ten years later that same thing is the talk of the town. Trends change. People change. Why can’t the same thing happens with smells?”

The particular type of faeces chosen for the perfume is from our four legged friend, the cow. Surely the most well known of all poo types, next to our own of course. The fact that de Winter is releasing poo perfume is quite mad, the idea of paying £200.00 for a 200ml bottle surely bordering on insanity and yet since the pre-order window opened, the website has consistently been sold out. Who exactly is buying this guff?

We turned to fashionista Melandra Melody for an insight into this madness. “You have to understand he’s been pushing these kinds of boundaries for years,” she says, “so he knows exactly what he’s doing. You smell poop and you wince away in shame. What Winter smells is the future, what he can smell is fresh money and possibly a new conservatory the size of your house. I saw him waiting tables back in Melbourne and two years later he’s the genius who decided to bottle the smell of fresh hands. Harness the power of scent and you too could be as successful as him.”

What exactly can we expect from the future then? Is going to harness the power of sick and flog it to the rich and wealthy?

“That is a distinct possibility. Stranger things have happened. This is only the first perfume in his new line so your guess is as good as mine. Whatever it is though you can guarantee it will be a hit!”

Comforting words from a world most of us will never fully understand. Will his next perfume be earwax? That weird stuff you find in your belly button? Would you pay two hundred pounds to pour essence of cadaver over your body? If you’ve got deep enough pockets then you too could smell like a hobo for the right price.

You have my condolences.