The World Cup On Telly, Cuts And Other Such Nonsense.

As I'm sure you're well aware the current political situation represents a bit of a lull for us Labour gentleman who've made our name at the business end of Labour politics. The Leadership Election must be a full and frank discussion about the direction of the party where the job is like a cross between being a boxing referee and care in the fucking community, let them fight it out, may the best man/Mrs Portillo win without letting any of the fuckers run naked into the streets screaming anything about tin foil hats, repitillians or David sodding Icke. With the likes of Michael Gove doing an impression of a demented gecko with an irrational grudge against the poor's digestive systems and David Willets resembling the type of Doctor Who villain who attempts to suck the soul out of everything from cartons of milk to Her Maj, it can be testing.

The cuts are just about on there way, and the coalition have made the devillish move of putting them forward during the World Cup it takes idioting pronouncements like Willets' 'burden/students' statement to remind people that this bunch of cunts have never needed state help in their lives having spent most of their shittrousered their student lives at blackface parties and smashing up badly decorated posho dens before paying for it with a bankers draft from T. S. Fuckstein and Nazigold's of Mayfair.

Anyway, that World Cup, Scotland not being there I shall just briefly focus on the TV coverage. The BBC's has a bland, worthy feel to it, with the occasional work of genius like the excellent 'Bus of Doom', consisting of Rob Walker, a man who gets excited about making up snooker players fucking nicknames, driving around SA. This provided the most unintentionally comic moment so far when after 3 hours of fairly fucking patronising 'Can an African team win please?' cheerleading, cut to Rob after Ghana had won, only for a bloody class A fucking mentalist to start shouting in his ear about European Colonialism and how he must hate it that Africans won. The BBC coverage also has an end of an era feel about it, knowing that the next World Cup will be presented from a disused flat in Peckham, as Cameron and co. appease the great Rupe.

To say ITV don't do football well is to say James Corden is mildly irritating and could with popping down the bloody gym once every while. Not only is their England coverage jingoistic to the point of being fucking ridiculous, a bit like Braveheart for Scots, but the general inability to say or do anything right is bloody astounding, in fact Andy Townsend should be given over to medical science and experimented on to see how exactly you end up being that fucking thick, and being able to talk, every time he speaks I worry the space-time continuum is up shit creek. Then there is James Corden's World Cup, this is more fucking car crash than 'Ayrton Senna: The Movie'. Corden wobbles about French kissing England players sphinctres on golf courses between looking like a cross between Russell Grant and gene therapy gone wrong, then we see a large breasted daft women, before Simon Cowell gets his obligatory one up the arse from ITV. Christ, it's times like this I thank fuck I'm Scotish, and I haven't even mentioned Clyve 'Clive' Tildeslei.