Wednesday 17 November 2010

Help! I need somebody to stop writing Beatles headlines.

The encroachment of human civilisation into the domains of wild animals is causing problems. In one Indian village, one man is attacked by a tiger, on average, every 10 days. The solution is simple, that man should move to a village where there are no tigers and then he wouldn't get attacked so often.
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According to the Telegraph it's been a long and winding road to get Apple and The Beatles to agree. For The Sun it was Love Me Dough and some tortured rubbish about Lucy in the Sky, and everyone else had headlines from Come Together to The Guardian's Hard Drive's Night. Even the Financial Times whittled on about Beatles For Sale though most of its readers had no idea what they were talking about.
But you know what would really Please, Please, Me is if the Yellow Sub Machines of national newspapers, Across the Universe, would stop it, now. Because you know what you get if you compile all these headlines into one collection? That's right, The Shite Album.
Postscript: Fox News website described The Beatles as 'Manchester Mopheads' in its early edition, but changed it to 'England's Mopheads' later on when it still couldn't remember exactly where they were from. Fab. Have they been living in a cavern?
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This is formulaic photographer Annie Leibowitz whose pictures have helped turn Vanity Fair into the celebrity wankfest it is today. Doesn't she look like Bamber Gascoigne?
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On Saturday, at Twickenham, a Northern bloke who had once played rugby league and so was thinner and fitter than all his posh fat mates from public schools, managed to run faster than several Australians while holding what looked like a leather egg. Because of this a lot of inbred, square jawed men ejaculated all over their Boden sweaters while declaring it to be the greatest try of all time. They then got drunk and took down their trousers, formed a line while holding the willy of the man behind them through their legs and doing something called The Elephant Dance.
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I'm in a bit of a grumpy mood today. I liked my idea, the PR company loved it, but the client wanted an alternative that was, frankly, bollocks.
Every time things look good, remember, fate has a way of pissing on your pizza.
From Me To You...(hello) Goodbye...Rubber Solly (that's enough Beatles headlines...ed)

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