Sir Jimmy Savile, OBE, KCSG, FTB (1926 – 2011), one of the Boys has fallen.
We all know that Muammar Gaddafi was a merciless tyrant who killed thousands, ran with scissors and offered sweets to children in that way, but we shouldn’t forget the last ten years of him trying to break into British culture. In between soft wanks over Condoleeza Rice, Gaddafi fantasised over being a Brit tabloid favourite by breaking into music and tv. Let’s take a look back:
Six Bristol bints got more than they had bargained for yesterday when massive Alan Shearer interrupted their after work drinks. As regular readers will no doubt know, the number nine has set himself a target of fucking two-hundred and six record-breaking slags to help awaken the public to the horrific underfunding of the British Armed Forces. Staff and drinkers at Wetherspoons’ Commercial Rooms bar in central Bristol were said to be thrilled to be part of the campaign and cheered as Big Al bounded in butt-naked, planted himself at the first table of slags he came across and proceeded in giving all of them a thorough pounding. That’s six off the list in one night!
165 to go!
Initially created and released under its Italian name Il Giustiziere della terra perduta (translated as “The Executioner of the Lost Earth), Warrior of the Lost Earth was writer-director David Worth’s third film under his own name (by the end of 1983 having made five under the pseudonym Sven Conrad), however Worth himself has claimed it was his directorial debut. Reportedly Worth was flown into Italy and shown a poster for the film and then told to go away and make it. You’d have never guess it!
Due to the popularity of the Mad Max films, the 1980s saw a great number of films trying (and failing) to cash in on the trend and this is no exception. Set in the future after a “radiation war” the world is now under the control ruthless dictatorship of Omega anf their (not so) charismatic leader Donald Pleasence. As is always the case there are some do-gooders fighting to overthrow the regime and they come in the form of the Enlightened Elders, a group of mystics who dress quite unfathomably as if they are living in Ancient Greece. The film begins with a lone motorcyclist riding into focus for what seems like an eternity – didn’t Abbas Kiarostami say something about a character being worth the wait? Well, in this case he would be bang wrong. Frankly, this lead character is
bollocks. The late Robert Ginty, known to NOTA for his role in 80s shitfest The Exterminator, plays The Rider, essentially a Russell Crowe lookalike with an annoying self-aware motorcycle named Einstein, which unsuccessfully attempts to have the charisma of Knight Rider‘s Kit. Einstein is infinitely irritating, perhaps to the point of single-handedly killing the film before it even begins proper. However, at least the bike makes an impression unlike the vapid and ineffectual Ginty – one is informed that one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead but he can’t hear me so fuck him. He was a total poof of an actor.
After violent run-ins with an Omega squadron then later a group of thuggish cyberpunks, The Rider, injured from all the flighting, crashes through the ‘wall of illusion’ and into the hands of the Elders who heal his wounds and inform him that he is the long-prophesised “chosen one” who will help them destroy Omega. And so on and so on.
Essentially this film is dull shit. There is even a twist at the end setting up the possibility of a sequel. However, no sequel ever came nor ever will . . . unless the Boys make it, which they won’t!
Verdit: Bored the Boys (BTB)
Wor Kev ‘n’ Peter once again took a break from their good for nothing hollowed out wives today to celebrate the news of women being deemed as worthy to the British throne as men. A change both of the Newcastle Elders were most happy with. Peter cheerily told us what this decision means for him after only reading half the article, “So Kate Middletons gonna put on a gold Bikini an become empress eh? Well thats betta than tha soggy git William bein involved, he should gan back te shagging tha ginger spice. STD ridden slag.” Kev added, “Ah used te think regals were nothin more than tabs but the dayuh showed me tha regals are not tabs, regals are regals whee wear posh regal clothes an smoke regals leik . Apparenty at some point this cuntry is gonna hava a queen man! But ah divvent think it’ll happen in me lifetime. “
Peace-loving Alan Shearer united the ordinarily hostile Catholic and Protestant communities of Glasgow yesterday with an impressive display banging the heck out of local bint Tracy McEwan as he ticked another off his ever diminishing list of 206 record-breaking slags to help raise awareness for the shoddily funded British Army. Miss McEwan told NOTA that she believed “shallowing was a symbolic act. It meant that now inside me, and the community as a whole, we know have the power to change for the better. Thank you, Mr. Shearer!”. Another job well done.
172 minus 1 means 171 remain
Rambu is pissed off, very pissed off. More pissed off than you or I could possibly be. He’s pissed off at us also. After all, isn’t our apathy at fault for the world’s problems? Rambu is not so weighed down by social inertia. He’s had enough of making excuses and he’s fighting back. Whereas you and I would haplessly stand back and allow two drug-dealing gangster types to assault a female member of our community, Rambu on the contrary is prepared to throw a tennis ball at the villians and save the day. He’s not messing about that’s for damn sure! “Hold on,” I hear you protest, “Isn’t his name a little familiar?
Isn’t he just a rip-off/cash-in on Rambo?”. No, he isn’t. Just look at the picture above, he is absolutely nothing like Rambo. He’s Rambu. And he means business!
The story is rather easy to describe – Rambu kicks the fuck out of anyone in his path and eventually the gangsters get tired out it, taking revenge by killing Rambu’s wife. Bastards! Understandably Rambu isn’t happy about this and hunts down the gang’s boss Mr. White. Will Rambu save the day?
Raring have the Boys been so stunned by the cinematographic form as they were during a late night encounter with Jopi Burnama’s mid-eighties masterwork.
Verdict: For the Boys (FTB)
Wor Kev and Peter were deported from Libya earlier today with rebel officials stating that it was “Too soon for these antics.” A noticeably distressed Kev and Peter returned back to their wives after a mere 97 minutes of celebrations in Tripolis and had this to say to NOTA-
Kev: “Aal wi tried te dee is enjoy thor joy an spread wor joy, wi hev a lot of joy te gis an if wor joy can increase them slags joy then we’re enjoying ourselves whilst they feed off wor joy”.
Peter: “Ahm fucking sick of banging me wifie , ah can barely touch the sides anymore so this trip meant a lot te me. Seriously sheh turns me off gadgie . Last time sheh put a rubber johnny on me, me cock felt leik a caterpillar in a sleeping bag”.
Please pray for the Newcastle elders before you go to sleep readers