You can slowly slide his seat forward, gradually reducing his legroom for chuckles. Blow cold air in his face. Shine lights in his eyes. Remorselessly goad him with a stick. Hidden beneath his seat is a turbulence simulator: activate this if he reaches for orange juice. Seated beside him is an animatronic baby which will scream, dribble or belch half-digested rusk down the side of his face whenever you see fit.
And if physical discomfort isn’t enough, why not mess with his mind? Pipe in a faked announcement from the pilot claiming the plane’s accidentally flown through a time-hole and will now remain airborne for eternity. Chortle through mouthfuls of roast goose as he tries to slash his own throat with his stupid plastic dinner knife. Revel in his desperation! That’s what it’s there for!
Of course the inequality of air travel is a caricature of what happens on the ground: space and resources for all, doled out disproportionately. Yet no matter what relative comforts we’re gifted, we’re all screwed if the wings fall off. And the bolts holding them in place have been loosening for some time. Here endeth the tortured metaphor. Good night.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
The dumb show
CHAPTER ONE
Dripping with menace
Cannibal Holocaust
I love Frann he is wel fit
Mr Logic on holiday
Enter the Dragons’ Den
The amazing John McCririck
Fear of vomiting
Celebrity bollockers
Mrs Spoon from Button Moon
Jacko
Colours and shapes
Holding seances and going’Woooh’
If a penis could choose its own wardrobe
Show us your bum for ten pence
Be not afraid
Cargo of pebbleheads
Don’t have nightmares
A horse that isn’t there
Shed a tear for Abi Titmuss
Twenty-first-century stocks
A ham-eyed poltroon
All hands on deck
Pure bling in action
Nigella. Nigella. Nigella. Nigella
Hysterical blindness
The no-pity-for-toffs rule
Drunk on the news
London’s village idiot
CHAPTER TWO
New, improved reality
I hate kids
Dying of boredom
Sir Yes Sir
Rage with the machine
Dead famous
The National Excuse Hotline
The Instant Suicide Button
Pray for Stumpy Ralf
A two-minute howl of despair
Things Robbie Williams hasn’t done
God: massive bastard
King Kong times two
The root of all stupid
CHAPTER THREE
Beating them off with a stick
Lost
Hooray for telly!
Ha ha you’re grieving
DickleSS
A deep-Med sofa
Half an hour of stab wounds
The Little Bo Peep Show
Thank God for Harold Bishop
The Jeremy Kyle Show
Mariah Carey bullshit
…And it Smells good too
Slough of despond
Happily fertilised
Eye-brain mindwipe syndrome
Phil Mitchell fighting a reindeer
Burned into the memory
Reality itself has a hangover
CHAPTER FOUR
Galloway to go
The world’s first satire war
The Smoking gun
The point of no return
Rubbernecker’s Weekly
Night of the living follicles
Abort, retry or cancel?
Putting kids to good use
Lies, all lies
A face at the window
Too annoyed to save the world
CHAPTER FIVE
The dumbest story ever told
Noel’s red box party
The average Nazi official
There’s no Iranian bobsleigh team
Slow down and watch the car crash
Adam Rickitt’s well of courage
Faintly baffling mini-movies
CSI: Jihad
Hardcore action
The Badger hulks out
Top-hatted warthogs
A banana skin and an open manhole
CHAPTER SIX
Time to get tough on flags
The great online dick fight
On wishing one was a punk rocker (with flowers in …
Plucky little England
On having a nice day
Too old for MySpace
Rise of the invisibles
Plan Z
Down with parties
It’s time to smother romance in its sleep
The war on boring terror
GPS for life
On Justin Timberlake
On Banksy
On pissing like beasts
You aren’t what you eat
The decoy doomsday
One night in paradise
CHAPTER SEVEN
Berks the size of hills
The twat amplifier
Added tit shots
Goodbye, England’s Rose
Punishing the viewer at home
Bastards’ Hole
Pointing away from the problem
No one loves the ugly
Brian Conley: irritant or genius?
I hate you. We all hate you. God hates you
Pin Sharp
Rubbin’ the hooded man
The best a man can get
The bank that likes to say any old shit
World War II: the domestic version
If I didn’t do it
When it comes to psychics, my stance is hardcore: …
Faces not words
On recognition
CHAPTER NINE
Up the Eton Road
TOUCH WOOD
Haunted porcelain dolls
Not Buck Rogers
Might as well be dead
All-oUt war with Scotland
A great leap forward
Thus I win
The world’s thickest coven
24 loses its mind
Wanking for coins
CHAPTER TEN
Opinions R US
It is a truth universally acknowledged that I must…
I hate MaCS
Read it and weep
On a mobile twit machine
There’s only one way for Bush to dig himself out o…
A fool and his money are soon parted. A bastard an…
Is there no end to my ignorance?
On David Cameron
Safe beneath the watchful eyes
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A terrible crime
Right-wing funnies
Carpet of the stars
Same clothes. Same cars. Same sky
Lie upon lie upon lie upon lie
A roomful of squealing Josephs
Steamy hand-on-Bible close-ups
In no way similar to The Apprentice
A terribly serious drama
Obsessed with Katie Hopkins
Sir Alan, Margaret Mountford, and Gandalf
Twelve sure-fire ways to save 24
A collector’s edition of Barely Legal
The Amazing Mister No Lips
Monsters Got Talent
CHAPTER TWELVE
On knife-in-the-eye shop signage
On a face on a book
On Facebook
Because we’re worth it
Dicks, lies and measuring tape
Washing machines live longer with Calgon
On Glastonbury
All men are created equal, just like airline seats…
