Poor Patrick Stewart, Julie Walters, Ronan Keating, Nicole Kidman and The Redknapps (whoever they are). They're all so flat broke at the moment that these beloved entertainers have been forced to do a million Nintendo adverts that are never off the telly even when you switch it off. Patrick and Julie play Donkey Kong, or whatever, on a Megabus while The Redknapps have had such a mental breakdown that they each think they're driving a sofa. Nicole, her money wasted on all the botox a girl could wish for, plays Brain Training but it is too little too late and Ronan has regrettably had children. So, you see, this christmas isn't about making sure your elderly neighbours are OK or sending aid to people in Africa, it's all about giving more money to greedy, lazy bastards. This is the kind of thing punk tried to destroy, people. You know, before Johnny Rotten was paid to say "Ever get the feeling you've got lovely butter?" I'm not saying that these stars don't deserve the hundreds of thousands of pounds they got for doing shit all, I'm simply saying that we, the people, should rise up and kill them. Well, if not kill them then make them do something shit. Patrick Stewart has to do a year on Emmerdale, Julie Walters has to do the door at Amused Moose, Ronan Keating has to sing in Boyzone AND Westlife AND Iraq, Nicole Kidman has to prove she's not a robot and The Redknapps have to seriously write out clearly what it is that they do and how they contribute to this planet and then eat themselves. Doing an advert for money is wrong. It's immoral and disgusting. I did that Harvester Advert years ago because I believed in the script. I made "Chef 2" come to life!
Johnny's gone now, everyone. Sobriety can visit my home for a while. I'd very much like to thank Martin White and Caroline Mabey for helping us with some very last minute drinking while we went to see the very lovely Richard Morris host Comedy Circus at The Comedy Bar, Leicester Square. It was a sketch comedy evening and all the extremely talented and experienced performers ended the evening happy that they'd done a great, great show. None of us agreed but we were never asked so hey-ho. That reminds me, whatever happened to Los Quattros Cunts? They were good them.