Tag Archives: jesus

Something, something, Temptation (the the Heaven 17 tune)

Temptation is an interesting thing. Especially how quickly I give in to it. Take every single time I’m in a pub, for example – I genuinely think I’ve managed to go for “one drink” a handful of times in my life, and I’ve been going to the pub since I was about 14*. Sometimes it’s been one or two extra, which is obviously understandable (and quite sexy). Then there are the other times. The Other Times. Where it turns into something quite special.

Most of those times I blame Ben. And they were definitely very sexy.

But temptation comes into so many other elements of life, not just my rampant alcoholism. There’s the much-documented gambling I did… do… won’t do anymore… will do again soon. There’s shit food. There’s talking to people you hate just because they amuse you somewhat. There’s that bit where you’re Jesus in the desert. There’s loads of temptation everywhere. There’s also Chris saying “one more?” Cock.

Is it so bad to give in to temptation? Surely the only reason we shy away from it is because the Bible told us to? And who gives a fuck about that claptrap? I mean, if it’s not killing you or really badly affecting how you cope in life or treat others, what does it matter that you’re giving in? Though I am just convincing myself to drink rum, eat a tub of ice cream and gamble a lot right now.

Probably shouldn’t listen to myself, then.


*Yes, this means I’m well cool.

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Do you believe in Jesus?

“Hey mate, do you believe in Jesus Christ?”


“Why not?”

“First, I’m a Pastafarian. Second, I don’t believe in an invisible sky magician who doesn’t actually do anything apart from allow the suffering of the people he apparently loves to continue. Also I don’t hate gay people. Well, not that much. I don’t believe you’re supposed to shun menstruating women, as mental as they are. I like to covet my neighbour’s ox. We don’t need religious doctrine to enforce morality, seeing as we’re not stupid and in medieval times anymore. I don’t believe, if there was a god, he would say “it’s either believe in me or burn in eternal fire forever”, as that’s just not very nice – which would be out of character at the very least. There are other things, but I don’t want to sound like Richard Dawkins as he’s a bit of a prick. Also I need some pasta.”

At least, that’s what I would have said if I’d actually stopped walking. Which I didn’t.

To be fair, you have to admire the balls of the chap – no matter what way look at it, it’s a bold opening gambit to just hit someone with in the middle of the street. In Bournemouth he’ll probably be fine, but I’d worry for the guy in somewhere like Manchester. He’d be dead within the hour.

Though at least then he’d be with Jesus, I suppose.

I don’t understand the mindset of people who will approach you with nonsense like this, and this includes chuggers. At first I would simply avoid these louts who pretend to do good work, but now I have no qualms walking right past with a dismissive “no”. Well done, people who get jobs standing in the street demanding money off me, you’ve ruined the idea of charity for me.

You’ll be the ones crying when I make my millions and none of it goes to Oxfam*.

*None of it was going to them anyway.


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A finely-honed comic missile of a duo

I have mentioned their names before in this blog, but I have never just said it: Stewart Lee and Richard Herring, as Lee & Herring, are the best comedy double act I’ve ever seen. There, I said it. Out loud. In words.

While some may dislike Lee for his monotonous, plodding delivery and how he labours over every single point made, and some may think Herring is an idiotic, childish, sexist berk, the combination of the two does two things. One, it makes it harder to notice these alleged faults, as both comic personalities cover each other’s bad points. Two, it helps you to realise they’re both actually brilliant comedians with finely honed stage personalities ripe to be misunderstood by the general public.

They were the double act that would spend lunch time on a Sunday dissecting the very nature of how to tell a joke, while at the same time having a go at boring, formulaic comedy:

They were the double act that – while Songs of Praise was on BBC One at the same time – would have far more interesting religious programming:

They taught me about the possessive apostrophe:

They showed me how Braveheart really ended:

And they had St George glassing a crow at lunch time on a Sunday:

One problem I have with their existence, however, is the fact that if other people see their act they will realise that every single thing I say in my life, ever, is because of them. It’s either a direct quote modified to suit the situation or just a few words or phrases here and there stolen wholesale. Lee and Herring reveal me to be unoriginal and a fraud. The bastards.

Fortunately this shocking admission won’t be noticed by anyone, seeing as this blog is read by nobody. HAH.


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