Do Not Want Pt 2

Posted: June 6, 2010 in Do Not Want, England

James Corden: More often than not these days the word “ubiquitous” means “that annoying twat off the TV who is everywhere, all the time”. Vernon Kay was ubiquitous for a while. Graham Norton is getting there. Adrian Chiles can never be ubiquitous because he’s never annoying. Bruce Forsyth wants to be ubiquitous one more time before he dies, his head literally splitting into two as he cracks another autocued gag during Strictly Come Dancing.

Unfortunately James Corden has risen to the rank of ubiquitous twat seemingly without effort. In no way can I imagine how this happened. See, I remember when he was the fat one on Teachers that everyone used to take the piss out of, everyone even that really smart girl in Andrew Lincoln’s class who was obsessed with studying rather than having a sneaky fag and locking Simon and that bird who looked a bit like an anthropomorphised tiger in the stationery cupboard, so that they could eventually get it on and spawn all sorts of comedy recriminations for the rest of the series.

And here he is now, via Gavin & Stacy and a short TV career with that really really fucking scary guy with blue eyes, “singing” alongside Dizzee Rascal on a sort of cod-cover of the Tears For Fears song “Shout”, in aid of helping our boys win the World Cup.

The only drawback with returning to the family home is that you’re obliged to watch whatever nonsense is on TV at that moment, without roaring “what the fuck is this shit” and nailing the bastard with the mute button. In this case, the Britain’s Got Talent final. The actual finalists, of which I saw precisely 1 perform (the winners, a gang of oiled-up Aryan Adonises that Hitler would presumably have gone nuts for), did indeed have talent. Dizzee Rascal has talent, even if he pronounces his surname “Rar-skull” and thus loses any “urban/cool” credibility in my book, because no-one who pronounces words like that can occupy that sort of reputation. If his name was actually Dizzee Rar-Skull , lead signer of a Norwegian viking metal band, that would be acceptable.

James Corden has no talent. He’s still fat and obnoxious and rubbish. Why Dizzee has decided to let this heap of shit get involved with his music career is a mystery as big as ITV’s decision to give Corden a slot on their channel every single frigging night. Presumably it will be CHOCK-FULL OF TOP BANTER WITH THE BOYS. Apparently it may even feature the Wags. Jesus.

I don’t want to see him, ever. I don’t understand how he’s become the de facto “one of the boys” just because he did that wonderfully un-funny skit with the England squad a few years ago (didn’t he reprise it this year?). He only got away with that because it was for fucking charity so no-one was allowed to point it out as the pile of crap it was, drag it screaming from the production floor in the dead of the night and have it executed by firing squad.

So in a nutshell, I will be watching ITV for the time in between two blasts of a referees whistle (kick-off and full-time), and not a moment longer. Half-time will be spent in the toilet. Being sick.

Here are some lyrics from this unfortunate “Shout For England” shitstorm:

Shout, Shout, let it all out,
Come on England!!!
These are the things I could do without,
Come on,
I’m talking to you – come on,
Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough!
Ay oh, ay oh, ay oh, ay oh
And all the people sing
Ay oh, ay oh, ay oh, ay oh
Come on England!!!

Just. Just no, okay? Just no.


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