Issue #1 - A Rant Down The Rave

A RANT DOWN THE RAVE…..

THIS MONTH: Well, everything.

Are you tired of getting handed those deplorable free papers on your way home from the wankplace, only to peer down at their front pages and see Paris grinning back at you / Britney sneering back at you / Doherty glazing over and flicking that most rock’n’roll of gestures, the V, at you?

I certainly am, and I don’t even bother reading them anymore. I know celebrities and their ilk are something of an easy target, but they’re a target worthy of shooting time and time again when you realise a great many people in this day’n’age struggle to tell the difference between Tony and Lionel (well, up until Lionel’s ‘hilarious’ turn on that Catherine Tate comic relief thing, anyway) and are more likely to answer the question ‘who is Cameron?’ with ‘Justin’s ex.’

Not that I’m greatly concerned with politics myself, but in order to know the difference between shit and faeces, one first needs to know what shit and faeces are exactly. Or some such. But you get the general idea. Anyway, let’s take a look at some of our favourite ‘slebs’, assess their various crimes and work out what punishments they need dishin’ out to ‘em….

NAME: Paris Hilton
DESCRIPTION: Snotty-nosed sex-taping lollypop stick. Done some time in the slammer for something or other. Named after a chain of hotels that counts ‘Bognor Hilton’, ‘Hackney Hilton’, ‘Croxteth Hilton’ and ‘Poole Hilton’ amongst its number.
THE CRIMES: Appearing in newspapers more often than news does; releasing some record or other despite having zero talent and shit-for-brains; generally being a bint.
THE PUNISHMENT: Being forced to return to the slammer only to find herself locked in a box-cell with ten other inmates, five of whom are sex-starved mentalists, the other five being mentalist-starved sex offenders.
NAME: Peaches Geldof
DESCRIPTION: Daughter of some bloke who swore a lot if you didn’t give money to charity. Always ‘on the scene’, wherever that may be.
THE CRIMES: Letting Donald Tourette get his filthy end away with her (allegedly); being under 12, getting into clubs and even being photographed whilst doing it where so many of her contemporaries who no doubt gobble less snot get laughed at week-in, week-out, up and down the land trying to do the exact same thing; DJ’ing when she could be revising for her exams, the thoughtless wench.
THE PUNISHMENT: Instead of going to clubs, being forced to appear on national television sat next to her father when he is in the middle of a six-hour version of one of his ‘Live Aid’ rants (or, better still, a six-hour version of ‘I Don’t Like Mondays.’

NAME: Pete Doherty
DESCRIPTION: Hang around Camden Town tube station long enough during the early hours and you’ll get a better picture than any of these words could paint.
THE CRIMES: About 647, lass time we cared. That was quite a while ago though, so you may as well add another 249 to that. Oh, hang on, someone’s just texted me. Let me read it out. ‘Doherty’s been arrested for driving erratically while in possession of heroin & crack.’ Blimey, I get those more than I get those promotional update texts from sodding Vodafone. Twerp.
THE PUNISHMENT: S’cuse me, Officer McLeish? You see that key there? Yeah, sling it….

NAME: Jordan & Peter Andre
DESCRIPTION: It’s had to know where to begin….
THE CRIMES: Existing.
THE PUNISHMENT: Capital.