I'll keep this short. Frankly, Jeremy Kyle is on and its amusing me greatly. Vegetable pakoras and samosas in the oven, ready to be munched on.

It's been a good six or so months since I last wrote a blog entry, I have a couple of posts half conceived on my computer that are probably too late and too topical to give birth to. I haven't had much to say because it's kind of back on to standard life. Living in Copenhagen gave me something slightly out of the norm to describe and whilst I have cool adventures and happy moments in both Lancaster and Belfast, nothing seems too worth writing about. I can't really write a review of Jon Carpenter's ability to tickle and/or lick my balls as a forfeit for losing at foos ball or otherwise. I'm not going to compose a top five insult/comebacks from our house because too many of them involve parents dying from various forms of cancer. I'll probably do a post about Lancaster next term or in third, when its really close to leaving. So I can chronicle my three years there for real. Lastly, I've gone back to my style of saving every day stories over for my orating skills, which due to my slowness, and hope that I won't exaggerate a story, I'll often fuck it up, lack a decent punch line and generally just falter about nothing.

It is as I said to a friend "Man, I'd love to say I love your long winding stories that go absoloutely no where, but that would be a lie." Good rinse.

That sounds pretty negative, but if you've been around me, you'll know I'm often better at dropping a good one liner or punch line than a well put together story. I'll either use a semi-intelligent turn of phrase to use as wit or I'll play dumb, Irish, or Irish dumb. That being said, given half a chance, I'd still do three minutes of stand up if I saw the option going in a bar. I'd maybe only be half as funny as Dylan Moran could be in a minute, but I'd still be doubly as funny as that twat Alan Carr. Which brings me on to a good topic for this post. Talentless celebrities.

Alan Carr's comedic talents are grossly lacking. Maybe you could argue it is the evolution of classic British camp, but Frank Spencer and the Carry Ons were classic because they were classically trained, their acts had subtle nuances and clever physical movement to match their indulgence in catchphrases ("Ooh matron", "Ooh Betty!"). Alan Carr doesn't even have good timing. He just has a spastic grin and attempts to be a poor man's Julian Clary, or steal Graham Norton's routine entirely. Norton used to be funny too, then he just lowered the tone to a level that was just awkward. The man makes Chucklevision seem high brow now. Want to be a gay comedian? Gain a little (okay maybe about a hundred points of IQ) intelligence in your act and be Steven Fry. Don't be the gossip queen who fights over men with Gok Wan. Probably don't do a double act with he who is little more than an accent-with-a-beard Justin Lee Collins. Though Collins is more forgivable because he has a better energy and can put together mildly entertaining shows like "Bring Back Star Wars". At the end of the day, both men really need to learn how Bill Bailey, Franky Boyle and Ed Byrne are funny.

Another instance of talentless celebrities is Kerry Katona. She's like a more likable Jade Goody. God bless her lovable coke binging heavy drinking ways. God bless her appearances in the Iceland adverts and on Loose Women. Two marvellous contributions to society. Before you start to wonder, I'll tell you how she found initial fame. In a girl band of about five years ago called Atomic Kitten. Atomic Kitten can be remembered for none of their songs. Well apart from their bland cover of the bland Bangles song "Eternal Flame". That and they were big in Japan, but I reckon thats on part due to the name. They were probably presuming it was a musical act of a Godzilla-esque cat. In all seriousness, ever since experiencing Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the giant robot loving Japanese have had a kind of fascination with atomic bombs. That and they are a big fan of cats for instance show a big breasted cat girl in an anime and you'll keep millions happy. Stick the Hello Kitty on a pencil case and you're guaranteed big sales, albeit to a certain degree world wide. Going back to Kerry Katona, if I could make my money from being an addict to various substances whilst attempting to be a parent to children and appearing on a series of reality TV shows I probably would. If I could be in a TV advert which would attempt to market frozen, warm in the oven party snacks to students and single mothers wanting to add some Iceland class to the gathering I probably would. Lets be honest, those snacks are probably quite tasty.

I had a few more instances of crap celebrities stored in my head yesterday, but since they've evaporated from my frontal lobe, I had to ask around. Suggestions we have are Heather Mills and Vanessa Feltz. Despite the fact I don't think Mills deserves that big a share of Paul McCartney's money, part of the idea of marraige is that no matter what it is for life and if you do split, you do have to split everything you have with the other person. That being said, I'd prefer if we don't see the one legged bitch for a good long time. I'd rather watch Australian stand up Adam Mills shower us with banter about his one footedness. Then there's Feltz. We've seen less of her over the years and no-ones complaining. We get concerned about the massive swings in her weight. She puts it on and then she looses it. Then she just becomes obese for years, but still has a how to lose weight guide out there somewhere. I could go back to Jade Goody, but she's just too easy. She has a perfume out, but really.. who wants to smell like her? She's got an autobiography (if she wrote that, I'll have my bottom ribs removed to perform autofellatio) but who wants to read about her? As found out whilst she was in Indian Big Brother (to make up for the fact she was being racist on British TV) though she is probably going to die of a tumour the size of a tomato. I'd almost feel sorry for her, but she's making the whole thing horribly dramatic - planning her funeral like a wedding and wanting people to cry, rather than have a piss up. To be fair, she never wanted to be liked and was herself, which sometimes is all you can ever ask of anyone. As I should say in this blog, cancer isn't a laughing matter, unless you reside in a certain fucked up house with a number 12 on the door.

Once more for Piers Morgan. So up himself that he'll probably shit out his own mouth someday. After being kicked off not one but two tabloid newspapers, he's gone onto judge talent shows so he can tell them they're shitter than he is. I don't think my repeated use of the word shit can really detail how shit he really is, I kind of enjoy the fact he's on television because it gives us a role model that we can be better than. Its funny, he has a feud with Jeremy Clarkson and even if you dislike Clarkson you can at least agree he's better than knee-cap-him-then-just-to-see-if he-swims-throw-him-off-Blackpool-Pier Morgan (see what I did thar?). He's just so painfully slimy.

Back to my life, I'm kind of looking forward to tomorrow. I love a good Christmas day feed. Hell, its me.. I love any given feed. I'd say I'm feeling festive, but I'm not really that bothered. My belief system being an agnostic one with a built in Christian lean, I can thank God for giving me his only son, but then thats all up to question. As Richard Dawkins put it, if I were born in Ancient Greece I'd probably believe in Zeus. If I were born in India, I'd probably believe in Shiva and Ganesh. Its just how I was raised and schooled that I do have the belief I do and that belief is doubted, but never the less built in. As for just an occassion to hang out with the family, its nice and all but I get bored. I get upset whenever my mum panics as she usually does about Dad either not doing anything to help out or the roasties getting a tiny bit burnt. She does like it perfect. There should be some good TV on tomorrow too. Father Ted Christmas special was on the other night and fuck me that was a mighty good show. Not that I haven't seen it about once a year ever since it came out (MCMXCVI I think were the numerals or 1996 to you and me), the timing, comic acting and script are unbelievable. Great slapstick is complimented by great spoken comedy and everybody is happy. Just don't watch it and think of me whenever Dougal does something dumb.

At the end of the day, whatever your religious beliefs are, I hope you all have a good, but safe Christmas. A lot of bad shit happens round Christmas (as often enough does a lot of good shit). Don't go drink driving because lets face it, there's enough of that already and two wrongs does not make a right, unless that right is a right turn into a ditch. Do get sozzled, just like I have over the last two weeks. Do learn to deal with the inevitable red wine, beer, cider and spirits hangovers. If you're anything like me you probably will mix them to get extra fubared, along with indulgence of many other things. Whilst none of my housemates are likely to read this, I know a certain Jewface who probably will. Read his Basque-region set blog after mine because to be truthful, its wittier, sleeker and shinier than mine. www.jewbao.blogspot.com . I reckon I should do a top 5 things to do over the Christmas holidays in a week or two, but until then enjoy yourself. Eat, drink and be merry. And for Christ's sake don't fall down an open manhole.