The ‘Hoosiers’

I have recently discovered a band called The Hoosiers.   They have a song called ‘Goodbye Mr. A’ and I was compelled to contact them to discuss it.

Hello Hoosiers,
my name is Spike Tanner. Me and a friend of mine were watching MTV one day when the video for your ’song’ “Goodbye Mr A” came on TV. We were astounded by it I must say, not just by the poor quality of both the production and the ideas behind it (by the way, were you’se made out to be cartoon superheroes so’s to make you appear wacky or was it to make you look to be a bunch of twats? Because if was twats the director deserves a bonus for doing a stand up job).

After of about 2 minutes of staggering disbelief that such utter dung was being broadcast (albeit only by MTV) our chat turned to what the song was actually about. Both of us had our own very distinct ideas and I was hoping you maybe able to clarify for me which of us was the closet.

My interpretation of the song was that ‘Mr A’ was a euphemism for anal sex and that when you sing ‘Goodbye Mr A’ you are referring to when you left boarding school (I am assuming you all went to boarding school as by looking at you you do come across as the sort of feckless middle class white boys which populate such institutions). In the song I imagine you are thinking of a time when graduating from Boarding School you were also waving goodbye to all the years of foisting yourselves upon younger school boys and engaging in character building anal sex with them. Now that you are leaving boarding school you are saying that you can no longer indulge in this pastime of yours and must now seek gratification with women, so in effect you are saying ‘Goodbye to Mr A’.

My friend Jim reckons that the song was about nothing at all, and that it was probably written for you lot by an accountant fronted focus groups as it it clear to see that there isn’t an ounce of artistic integrity between you all.

Which one of us is closest? Please right back as soon as possible as I am 84 years of age and not long for this world and I would hate to go to my grave not knowing the true meaning behind such a worthless nugget of pop ‘culture’ (that is ‘culture’ in the fungus sense of the word LOL).
Yours sincerely,
Spike

Led Zeppelin Reunion

Sorry for not having written recently, I was in a coma.

But when I awoke I was blessed to hear the exciting news that Led Zeppelin had reformed!  Right away I set off to get tickets and was lucky enough to do so.  But before I make plans to travel to the show I decided to contact the promoter with a few questions about the show.

Dear Harry Goldberg,

  I am one of the lucky few people to have won tickets off of eBay for your reunion show with Led Zeppelin on November 26^th!  Lucky me!

I have a few questions though about the facilities at the show; can you answer them for me?

 

I am 84 years of age and not long for this world.  As you can imagine, as a man of advancing years (like yourself) I don’t get around quite as well as I used too and don’t have quite the bodily capabilities that I used to.  My main concern is toilets, will there be toilets available for members of the public to use at the show or will they all be reserved Paulo Nutini et al?  If there are not public toilets available what should I do in the likely event I pee myself?  This happens quite regularly for me.  Normally I just ring my bell and one of the helpers come, takes me to the side and pads me down.  Would the stewards at the gig be able to do this?  I am quite happy to sit there in my own urine if necessary but I have scolded for doing so in the past by the doctor as it can cause rashes.

 

While I am on to you can I also put in a few requests for the show?

I think it would be quite touching if the band could pay tribute to some of their influences; how about inviting on stage some old blues men?  The band could then herd the bluesmen over to an oversized replica of a mincing machine (you know, the type wot butchers use to make sausages, init?) and toss them in.  Then instead of mince coming out the other end the machine could chew up the blues men spitting out dollar bills which Jimmy Page could collect, laugh manically, much liked he laughed all the way to the bank when he made a career out of ripping off dirt poor black musicians.  Maybe the machine could spit out one or two of the blues men with their clothes all tattered etc.  Page could then climb up a ladder above them and then shit on them, quite literally, from a great height?

 

Another request I have is that Led Zep play tribute to what they are perhaps most famous for and degrade some young women live onstage!  I know a young girl from round our way who is VERY messed up on drugs.  I know ‘back in the day’ that this was exactly the sort of girl the guys used to love taking back to the hotel room and taking advantage of, and given her perilous state I sure she’ll do it for just tiny amount of drugs.  I was thinking maybe she could lie on a bed while a procession of roadies walk past taunt her with sexual swear words.  Then Jimmy Page could climb up his ladder from earlier and also shit on her from a great height.

 

Finally I really hope you don’t spoil the special ambience of the evening and have the band engage in chat in between songs. This would create the false impression that they really do like each other and that the show isn’t really just a lucrative cash for the guys.  There is something truly magical about a group of has been rockers plus the semi talented son of the dead one getting together to make a mockery of their supposed legacy to hawk the 27^th repackaging of the same old ‘greatest hits’.  I would hate to have this spoiled with a half hearted attempt to make the audience think that all those involved have nothing but utter contempt for everyone watching.  Please make sure this doesn’t happen!?!

 

Anyways, got to go, it’s my turn at Scrabble.  Look forward to seeing you at the show?

Regards,

  Spike Tanner

 

P.S. What time is Foreigner over at?  I might just arrange for my lift to pick me up after them because I looked at the rest of the line-up and quite frankly it is a steaming heap of shit.

Gordon Ramsey

Being a fan of swearing and food I decided to email Gordon Ramsey.

Hello Gordon Ramsey.
My name is Spike Tanner and I am a big fan of your swearing. (Or maybe I should say a huge fucking fan? LOL! Cunt!)
Anyway gather up a chair dear Gordon for I have a store to tell and at the end of it is a request, a very strange request which you might find advantageous?!?
For the past 68 years I have been travelling the world playing the Blues with my band Spike Tanner and The Bulging Sacks. I made a pretty sweet living out of it but unfortunately my behaviour on the road was never that sweet.
I have done some bad things in my time, evil sick things.
I have poured bacon fat into a Jewish man’s coffee, I have deliberately sneezed on a child’s grapes, I have put pornographic magazines in Catholic confessional boxes, I have pissed on a jockey’s saddle, I have sown phallic symbols into a nun’s habbit, I have smoked marijuana in a mosque and crack cocaine in the Vatican.
I have put laxatives in the water station on a marathon race, I have defecated on the ground at a Phil Colins concert, I have started rumours about Mel Brooks and Jennifer Love Hewitt, I have troubled cattle and bothered sheep.
I have lied about my favourite colour.
I have mocked the blind and disorientated the dumb.
I have denied the moon landings ever took place.
For all these acts I am truly sorry and I seek forgiveness but for me forgiveness will be hard to come by.
I do not believe in God or an afterlife, it’s all a load of hocus pocus mumbo-jumbo if you ask me! But I do fell I need reprimanded for my many crimes before I leave this mortal plain. And this is where Gordon , you come in.

I am 84 years and do not expect to see the next St Swithen’s day. I have meagre saving but enough for one last delicious meal at one of your restaurants. What I am proposing is that I come to one of your restaurants Gordon and order the most delicious meal on offer. Then as I sit enjoying the hearty repast I want you to come out in front of all the diners and give me a bollocking. but not just any bollocking but the bollocking from HELL.
I want you to tear strips out of me, call me all the names under the sun
“A fucking cunt-wallop”
“A pissing toad’s penis”
“A worthless fanny scab”
“A tambourine made of blood and dung.”
That sort of thing.
This way I will perhaps feel like I have served some sort of penance for my heinous acts and you will be able to get your usual hard-on from acting like a ignorant ball-bag in a room full of cowering tossers.

So what do you say? Please tell me you will grant a dying man his last wish, his only chance for eternal absolution? Or will you be your usual selfish shitty self, standing there in your little chef’s outfit with a head on you like a busted cock?

Let me know by return of email!

Yours fucking sincerely,
Spike

Gillian McKeith

I had an idea for a TV show so I contacted Dr Gillian McKeith to ask her to present it.

Hi Gillian!
Me have um TV Show Idea which me um thinkum you mightum be wanting to present!
My Name is Spike Tanner, I um hot shot producer from um TV Station “The Red Indian Network”.
As you know, us um red Indians have um two um big problems
1. alcoholism
2. fat woman folk
I thought we might combine um these two um things and um make um a TV show!
the idea is that we take um 5 red Indian squaws who are um slightly overweight but with the pretty faces i.e. F.I.L.Fs (fatties I would like to fuck).
We then put un in um big teepee and tell them that they are um not allowed any food whatsoever for 3 weeks to eat! All we allow them is to drink the alcohol, any alcoholic drink of they choosing.
We then follow them as they spend a protracted period in a drunken stupor, falling in and out of low rent bars and seedy night clubs. Then at the end of the three week period we weigh all five women and whoever has lost the most weight gets to decide what footage of them we use in the show. The rest we stitch up like um kipper as you English like to say.
Me thinkum this will be um BIG HIT as it has everything! For the women folk it has weight loss stuff which um they like um, for the men folk it have um reasonably attractive women grossly inebriated and (hopefully) making ill advised decision vis-a-vis unprotected casual sex!

So what do you say McKeith? If you want we can have you poke about the girls turds in and around episode 4 but you will need to give us advance notice on that one so we can feed them Guinness all day so there’s something worthwhile coming out their shucks.

Anyway, hope to hear from you soon.
Loveum your workum,
Spike Tanner

Commerce

These days if you want to make it big in the music bizniz you need to get your stuff sold in all the big chains. With that in mind I emailed Tescos.

What’s up Tescos?
Come here, I need your advice.
I am a struggling rapper, hoping to make it big in the hip hop game. Unlike like most rappers though I am 84 years of age and not long for this world. I give myself maybe two years before I cop the big one, el Deatho. Sucks huh?
But dig this, I have just recorded my first ever rap CD (and judging by the amount of piss in my blood (yes I got that the right way around)) it’ll probably be my last.
‘But why he write us?’ I hear you ask.

Well the deal is this, my new CD is my last slot at hitting the big time, I ain’t got enough fuel in the tank to go around once more, I need this CD to be the one, to be the HAWT SHIIIT!
Now I know a lil about the music Biz, if I want to be up there with the big stars like Snow Patrol and Sandi Thom I need to get my stuff sold in big soulless, depressing, hateful supermarket chains like yourselves (even though dumps like yours are about as essential to music as a row of blisters is to a hand job).
Any way most of my songs are dead offensive with really sick lyrics so I need to give my CD an offensive title so that the kids will know what they are letting themselves in for. What I need you to tell me is which of the following 5 potential CD titles are you most likely to allow to be stocked in the joke that you call a music section

1. Niggering The Bit Out
2. Cover Me In Cocks And Roll Me Through The Covent
3. You Suck More Than Your Moma During Half Price Blow Job Week
4. Christ’s Little Secret
5. Thank Fuck For Fuckers

So let me know what you cowards are prepared to put up with and I’ll ship ya a couple of thousand CDs. And I tell you what I’ll even do some TV ads for you, I’ve even got a slogan sorted
“Tescos, if you think their food is cheap you should see what they pay their staff!”

Tally ho!
Spike

The Wrestling Entertainment World

Ever since the death of Chris Benoit I have become a huge fan of Vince McMahon’s WWE so I decided to send him a little letter.

Hello Vince McMahon,
I just had to write to let you know how much I love your show.
I think it is great, it’s like totally like soo the best show on TV.
My favourite current wrestle is Skywind Johnston, why come he no be on your show more?
My favourite wrestle of all timed is Kurt Cobain, he was BRILLIANT!  That move he did where he grabbed the other boys by the
hair and then shouted real loud in their ear, and then they would get a sore
head, was brilliant! Why come he no be on your show no more?
He was very good.
You know who you should get on your show?  That Maya Angelou, I just positively ADORE her poetry, she really captures what it means to be a woman, know what I mean.
She does do TV shows, I have seen her on TV shows before so it shouldn’t be too hard for you guys to get her on the show (maybe offer her some of that sweet cash money?).
I even know how you could get her on the show, you could have one of the wrestlers (one of the fat ones would be best) reading one of her books and then the other wrestlers could make fun of him and
call him a sissy and then Maya would come in and scold them and tell them they shouldn’t be making fun of him.  She would then tell
the other wrestlers one of her poems and they would all see the error of their ways.
And it would encourage kids to read so you do have an moral obligation to have her on the show.

Anyway, bye bye!
Spike

p.s. don’t have Maya on your show next week as I am away to my Uncle Ted’s house on holidays for a week and he don’t have cable.
Have her on the following week, I’m back by then.

Dogs

I saw a stray dog today so I decided to email Pedigree Chum.

Dearest Pedigree Chum,

I am a man lost at sea. I have a deep urge within which must be curtailed.

I need help bad. I need help which I believe only you can give.

 

Yesterday I was in the park. I don’t get around as much as I used to, I am 84 years of age and am not long for this world, so I took a seat on a bench to rest my legs. The bench had a dedication on it saying

“In memory of Maude, with whom I often sat here to chat as we watched the swans”

This heartfelt inscription made my heart swell with emotion, but if I felt emotional at this nothing could have prepared me for what happened next which was to swell me even further with additional emotion to an evenmore emotional state for real!

A dog walked up to me, a brutish looking mongrel, with a tatty coat and weary eyes. He sat down at the foot of the bench and started staring deep into my eyes. It was obvious that this dog was a stray, and it was also obvious he was trying to make a desperate plea for me to take him home.

I lay my hand on his head to give him a soft pet, as I did so he gave out a slow whine.

Little did I know that this was some sort of doggy signal as sneaking out of the bushes came a dozen or so other strays who all gathered at my feet, all silently hoping that I may bestow some affection.

I was overcomed, this was the single most saddest thing I have ever witnessed. Much sadder than when Diana died in that helicopter crash or when my own daughter died of vitamin C poisoning after I accidentally served her a fillet of polar bear liver.

I have to admit, I was so shaken by these hounds that I freaked out a little. I grabbed my walking stick and began waggling it at them in the hope that it might scare them off, but so lonesome were these hounds that they were prepared to endure the threat of violence in the hope of some love at the other end.

I even began to shout at them

“Sod off you dumb dogs!”

But still they sat.

Finally I had no other recourse but to throw the contents of my flask of tea at them (I must point out the flask had been opened for quite some time, and while the contents were undoubtedly warm it was in no way at scalding temperatures).

Finally the dogs left crawling back into the bushes from when they came and I sat on the bench alone, and in tears.

 

Something needs to be done about the number of stray dogs in this country. It is almost at epidemic levels. I have a plan but it needs a degree of funding, and as a company that profits from dogs’ misery I think it is your civic duty to fund it.

I want to start a poster campaign to cover ever city, town and village in this land highlighting the plight of stray dogs.

I have conceived a design for these posters. It is to be a picture of an unhappy mutt sat wet and miserable in a skip. Emblazoned across this picture would be the legend

“STRAY DOGS – WHERE DID YOUR BITCH SLEEP LAST NIGHT?”

And that would be it. Simple. Classic.

(I use the term bitch because it is a well known fact that only female dogs ever become stray. A male dog, much like a Japanese Samurai would rather commit seppuka (sucide) that to live without a master. They do this by chewing their own heart out of their stomach in a furious rage, the crazy bastards).

 

I know that if we put up half a million of these up over Britain then all the homeless hounds would disappear overnight.

So all I need you to do is to get these posters made up and plastered all over every available wall in this green and pleasant land.

Once you have done this send me an email as I would like to go out and see one up, the finished article if you like.

Thanks for all your help on this, you are good people.

Much love,

Spike

The Reading Festival

The BBC are currently covering The Reading Festival.

This annoys me greatly so I was compelled to contact with the following complaint.

Dear BBC,

I wish to complain in the strongest terms possible about your abhorrent coverage of the Reading (so called) Festival. I was absolutely disgusted by your choice of bands to broadcast to the nation.
First up was Razorlight. An ignorant conglomerate of clearly drugged up ne’er-do-wells, their bland, tepid, uninspiring tuneless dirges are an out an out disgrace and mock the memory of poor John Lennon who probably thanks his lucky stars he was shot in the face before that worthless shower had formed a group. By far the most offensive member of the band was their lead singer Jonny Bore-ll. If the Arnold Schwartzenegger character in Twins had of been replaced by Oscar Wilde, Bore-ll would have been a shoe-in for the Danny Devito role. He truly is a horrendous specimen of mankind and his unbelievable smugness in his negligible musical talents somehow makes you think Al Qaeda may have a point in wanting to destroy the west if thousands of westerners are prepared to stand in a muddy field to watch this poppinjay bark out his songs.
Then you had a band by the name of Enter Shikari. My God, have the English middle classes sunk so low that they now want to make American “Sports Metal” their own? What a pathetic unlistenable deluge of dung that was.

The feeble, spindly members of this band dressed in garish “punch me” attire flounced around the stage with all the intensity of a contented cat. It’s as if someone had discovered an antidote to punk rock and injected it into a group of trainee accountants and asked them to “act wacky”.

I demand no more coverage of this band EVER be allowed on your network.

Finally, to add insult to injury(!) this whole debacle was Edith Bowman. My God, surely there must be someone in the BBC that understands that abasic criteria Broadcaster is someone who is able to communicate to to masses of people? This vacuous bint should me made to trawl through recordings of her broadcasts and forced to find an single utterance by herself which has even a smidgen of interest to anyone who hasn’t been crippled by a brain rotting disease. She truly is worthless in every manner, shrill voiced, physically repellent, ugly and stupid in a way that somehow fails to be annoying but instead just outright annoys.
Sack her. Sack her now.

In summary everyone in your organisation should be ashamed of yourselves and you should self flagellate in penance at the direction you are pointing the youth of today.
For shame BBC. FOR SHAME!!

This Pete Doherty Buisness

Something needs to be done about errant drug user Pete Doherty. I have devised a plan and asked the good folks at the Daily Mail to help me

Dear Daily Mail,
I am writing to you full of rage and anger over the judicial systems seeming impotence in dealing with heroin ravaged chancer Peter Doherty of ‘indie’ beat combo The Babyshamblings.
How can one man be spared a prison sentence time and time again? He repeatedly breaks the law; going on opium fuelled rampages yet the courts turn a seemingly blind eye, each time offering him the chance to skip a proper punishment by making a token trip into rehab.
I feel something needs to be done to force the Law to take serious action and I feel it will take a paper like yourselves to force the issue into the public consciousness so that those in charge can no longer ignore it.
What I am proposing is that you somehow dupe Doherty into taking heroin on camera thus proving that he is not ‘clean’ nor has any intentions to stop chasing the dragon.
I understand that for legal reasons you could not entrap him but that is where I am prepared to help. I am offering to procure the heroin, then with a little bit of help from yourselves accost Mr Doherty at one of his ’shooting galleries’ where I will tell him that I have loads of grade A skag back at my house which he can have for free if he comes back with me. If I know anything about Junkies it’s that they can not resist a free fix! Then once he starts cooking up in my kitchen we catch the whole sordid scene on hidden cameras.
I am fully prepared to accept the legal consequences of procuring and allowing heroin use in my house, truth is I am 84 years of age and not long for this world. If the legal system in their wisdom decide to prosecute me chances are I will be dead long before the lock me up. Even if I am by some sort of sick practical joke of our Maker’s making still alive when sent to the big house I am made of stern stuff and will pass my time there with ease.
I served in the US Marines under Eisenhower and fear no man made penitentiary. I have stared death in the eye and spat in his face, I have mambo with mortality, waltzed with wickedness, tangoed with terror, samba’ed with suffering and lambada’ed with lethal inevitabilities. I have seen death spilt lazily unto footpaths, mercilessness as entertainment, cruelty of a degree that would make Old Nick (that’s right Lucifer himself!) balk in fear. Prison nor death do not bother me, especially not your British prisons which are more akin to holiday camps with their satellite TVs and snooker tables. Hell you British pansies don’t even have the death penalty! My what a joke you are, you feeble liberal half hearted nation, no wonder flyweight pipsqueaks like Doherty and his ilk can run roughshod all over your pathetic country.
You make me sick.

But yes, as I said I am willing to entrap Doherty so if you are up for it and are willing to pay my expenses let me know.
Yours in cahoots,
Spike Tanner

p.s. What about that Amy Winehouse too?! First she says she’s not going to rehab, then she bloody well checks herself in! Women eh? They just can’t make their minds up about anything can they?!

I know how we can stop global warming!

To day I discovered that Fyffes have a website so I contacted them with a plan to stop Global Warming!

Hello!
Yes sir that’s a right!  I a know how a stoppa the global warming, yes I do!
But I need YOUR (The Fyffe Bananana Company) help.
Here’s my idea, how about one day next week the world wakes up to find that there are no bananas in ANY shops ANYWHERE in the world!
What you do is to hide a full days worth of bananas in a warehouse somewhere, or maybe just set a load of starving monkeys on them so there be no bananas for no man!

Everyone going into the shops will be like

“Hey dude, didn’t there used to be like, um, you know, like bananas over there?”

People will freak out (especially the Chinese) and they’ll be phoning up the radio stations and the newspapers and the TVs going

“Yo where am the bananas?”

They in turn will contact you guys and you’ll say

“There are no bananas today.  We checked all the banana trees yesterday and they were bare.  We asked the man in charge of bananas in Africa and he told us that they didn’t grow because of global warming.  He said that there will more bananas back tomorrow but if we don’t stop global warming then we may never get no more bananas again.”

Then you shout into the TV camera

“PEOPLE WE NEED TO STOP GLOBAL WARMING OR THERE WILL BE NO MORE BANANA FRITTERS, NO MORE BANANA SPLITS AND NO MORE BANANAS EATEN JUST BY THEMSELVES.  THEN WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?  WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO GET YOUR POTASSIUM FROM?  RADISHES?  SURE THAT’LL WORK… NOT!  STOP GLOBAL WARMING NOW!”

What do you say Fyffes, you with me on this?  Trust me this will work, I hid Nigel in my nursing home’s bananas yesterday and he went bat shit.  Imagine if the whole world went bat shit just for one day!  There won’t be a problem we can solve!  Hurrah for us.

If you do not agree to this I can only assume that you like the idea of global warming, of polar bears drowning, of vast Indian villages flooded to DEATH and of George W Bush dancing on the graves of millions of dead monkeys.  In that case I am compelled to say that you, Fyffes, you are worst than Hitler.

Damn your eyes!

Yours sincerely,
Spike Tanner

p.s. stop putting them little stickers on bananas, they do my head in.