*gobsmacked*

Last week's edition of the German political magazins Der Spiegel carries a story that happenend in the indescibably boring and revolting village where I work.

Something happened there. Something worth writing up in a magazine, even. I can't believe it!!

Germany is now officially humour-free

This is becoming fucking embarassing.

I don't know if the British yellow press as in Sun or Mirror did anything like it, but their German counterpart Bild (the one rag in all the world that would print the pictures of Diana's smashed car, and the same bunch of idiots that declared 'WE ARE POPE' when Palpatine was elected?) today had a large picture of a nice young Finnish bloke with long dark hair, a little beard, cute little glasses and a rather stylish tattoo on his shoulder on their title page.

No, not Ville Valo in  his bearded phase.

The lead singer of Lordi, out of character. With the huge headline: 'He is the Grand Prix monster!'

I thought that the tacit agreement between celebs and press meant that the celebs give the press something outrageous to write about, and the press in return doesn't look beyond the persona much. It is not done, because nobody will talk to you again if you do.

The accompanying article was about how blasphemous Lordi are, and how some oik said he wouldn't let his kids watch the show. Does anybody say 'sore losers'? Because that's what I smell in there.

Did nobody get that it was a joke? Fun? Humour? Because the whole fucking comptition is a joke? Something meant to amuse people?

You know, JOKE. That is when people say 'Ha ha ha ha ha.'

Open letter

Dear Claw O'Doom,

please call it a day! Look at all the nice sunshine; don't you want to sit on top of your rubble heap for a while, bask in the warmth, and feel triumphant?

You've been working since seven this morning, and it's now half past six. You must be exhausted, poor thing. Send you humans home, and enjoy the evening.

Love,
the neighbourhood