Few things in life are as precious as the innocence of youth. But if you’re like me and you’d rather have an erudite adolescent at the cost of $2 dollars per minute than a wholesome little dipshit, go right ahead and get the folks at your local ‘Homework Hotline’ to mentally taint your mathematically challenged youngster. Because if a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth being done entirely by a fiscally troubled teacher or student on your behalf.
This homework hotline specialises in dealing with children who take in information at the same speed my cat taxis people to Heathrow airport at; an entirely appropriate target audience considering that it’s an advert intended to be broadcast within Louisiana. (This judgement was brought to you by Bob Davidge and the good people WVLA-TV Homework Hotline - where excruciatingly painful is good enough.)
I don’t know what would be more of a hassle: sitting through a painful 50 minutes of Homework Hotline waiting for your question to be answered, or actually doing your homework. So to find out I actually arranged and attended a Q&A session with Steve Utter and a number of fans prior to the writing of this blog with the idea of informing us further. Unfortunately Steve, still evidently numbed from his visit to the Homework Hotline HQ in Louisiana, paced off halfway through mumbling ‘I hope that helps’, leaving me desperately in the lurch. HELP ME HOMEWORK HOTLINE!
The danger of relying on such a service is that for all you know, the people on the other end could be as incompetent as you, as is clear in this following video titled ‘Homework Hotline goes horribly wrong.’ I doubt Homework Hotline could have found a creepier person to work the telephones and, as his acting skills show, he’s clearly not going to be able to help you with your drama homework.
Listen, before you say anything, yes, I am writing about Justin Bieber. It’s a scientific fact that 40% of the internet is JB content so I’m alienating a good portion of my potential readers by not talking Bieber. Don’t blame yours truly faithful reader, blame the uneducated masses. Anyways, courtesy of the always funderful Videothunder, I present images of Biebs with a Beluga.
I’m trying to work out what’s more depressing; that an evidently erudite and cultivated little girl knows how to upload videos onto Youtube and I don’t, or that I’ve sat in front of a computer screen for a good ten minutes, unable to convey in words how fantastically brilliant it would have been for Justin Bieber to have been killed by a captive Beluga whale. It’s not like I hate the guy, it’s just I think that the positive effects of desensitising a lot of children very quickly through the bloody death of an icon far outweighs the likely outcome of the Corey Haim special that’s awaiting Justin Bieber. We could eliminate the watershed, have daily screenings of Apocalypto and welcome Flanimal Jackie Stallone back on to the small screen where she belongs - all for a Beluga banqueting on Bieber. Obviously, Justin’s inner circle (eww) are all very aware of the dangers posed by sea creatures to the boy wonder, so the likelihood of this fantasy goring playing out is slim. But, positively, at least the visualisation of all his kiddy fans watching through the glass tank as his body gets ravaged by the cute little fishy will replace the premonitions of my own death as the final images I see before I get to sleep each night. Sweet dreams.
In a week where we witnessed the powerful allure of JD Sports, a massive rise in the sales of baseball bats and the downfall of the inept Salford Knight Warrior, we’ve learnt that we need to be even more careful of youngsters hyped up on a steady diet of social exclusion, consumerism and scary music that just needs to take a time out. So consider Zioukido, the only martial art where its technique and application is as tough as its pronunciation.
I like Zioukido as it forgoes all the posturing and nuthugging of Modern Mixed Martial arts by instead placing particular stress on techniques for real-life practical situations. As we see in the video, when you’re not being taught how to properly headbutt a small child so the back of their head breaks a ceramic tile that’s been balanced on the forehead of another individual (a skill that surely would have come in handy during the rioting), you’re being taught how to ingeniously scare a passer-by with sheer creative brilliance and a glass bottle. So if you’re interested in learning the secrets of Zioukido (hint: shin pads), pop along to that recently burnt out Croydon furniture shop, also known as the new Zioukido Dojo, where they’re currently making the best out of a bad situation.
Having trouble deciding what blockbuster film to watch this summer? Watch ‘Usthad’, the Malayalam smash hit of 1999 starring Mohanlal as the underworld business negotiator struggling to balance his private life and dance troupe.
Usthad kicks ass in this opening scene with all the consistency of a Direct Line advert; you know it’s coming and you know it’s going to hurt to watch each and every time. The scene then breaks down into every office supplies manager nightmare with a harrowing portrayal of what happens when you don’t take stock take seriously. If that doesn’t make you want to watch this scene, perhaps some saucy swimming-pool action might. But I’ve said too much.
‘Usthad’ isn’t quite as action packed as what its Youtube description might have you believe. Because Western cinema has conditioned me to want action thick and fast, this shall count against the film as if I’d wanted to watch 2 hours of incomprehensible dialogue I would’ve just streamed Rocky instead. But, positively, we do get some chirpy musical numbers, exemplified by this touching scene. But I’ve said too much.
I don’t want to ruin the ending sequence of ‘Usthad’ so you can watch the entirety of the 130 minute film, so I won’t reveal too much. But if you would care to watch the barnstorming ending that’ll only take 14 minutes out of your day, it’s posted below for your own viewing. And I do recommend that you do. So in any event, all I’ll say is, yes, they are trying to fob off a children’s calculator as a bomb detonator. And yes, he did lick his fist. And yes, they ran like that. And yes, it ended like that. And yes, I enjoyed all the jumping too. And yes, he did do that. And yes, he did do that. But I’ve said too much.
Anyone who knows me will be aware that I’m a pretty big thing on the Festive Hardcore scene due to my love of all things beats. So without further ado, I now present to you ‘SOULSUCKINJERK’S TOP 5 DONK XMAS MIXES LIST’.
IN AT 5.
The list begins with the the surprisingly early appearance of the classic ‘Put A Christmas Donk On It’ from DJ Peanut’s ‘Double Penetration Donk’ mix, containing beats ubiquitous with the early festive Donk days. In this humble writer’s opinion, DJ Peanut should be more fittingly named DJ Sun Pat Smooth due to the slick mix of Blackout Crew’s ‘Put A Donk On It’ with Slade’s ‘Merry Christmas Everybody’ and the hardcore classic ‘Boris Yeltsin’. On a side note, we all know this mix brought Slade singer Noddy Holder back into the public eye, but what you may not know that as a direct result of Peanut’s mix, Noddy attained a weekly DJ slot between 2-4 on Rinse FM where you can regularly hear him forget what he’s doing there.
AT 4.
A monumental moment for festive donk, George ‘Gazzatunes’ Michael’s remix of ‘Last Christmas’ acted as a catalyst for all things kindergarten in the world of donk.
AT 3.
Big C, inspired by the smash hit ‘Glitter’, succeeds here with his creative incorporation of minimal Donk beats and the muzzling of Mariah Carey to create ‘The Syncopation of Mimi’.
IN AT 2.
Proving that an oldie is always a goody, this T-G-B Donk mix of Mariah, uploaded onto YouTube a whole day before Big C’s effort, has the distinct honour of being described by the one and only HardcoreQuadNation of Shrewsbury as being ‘the best’. Not to mention the fact that ‘Sonic Bounce’ managed to get my bedroom wallpaper as the background for this particular video, proving yet again my love for the beats AS MY HOUSE IS BEATS.
AND AT NUMBER 1.
I remember the first time I head DJ Millzy’s ‘Christmas Mix (Donked)’; I was chewing my face off, bouncing on Wigan Pier on one of those balmy April nights that are so eponymous with Manchester. Jingle bells. Donk style. Now you have to remember, this was at a time before you’d hear any sort of belled instrument in a club, nowadays you can’t go anywhere without hearing some sort of bassed enhanced chiming. At the time I was having a rather illuminating conversation with this one lady from Worsley, discussing how we were all made from chemicals and the such, with Darwinian like progression spaced over millions of years that have concluded with us, in this current physical and mental state, sitting outside in the smoking area at ‘SlamDonking 8’; the peak of evolution. And that’s when I first heard it, shaking the smoking area like you’d shake your kid if you found him reading anything faggy - jingle bells. Donk style. And it was like a wave of noise, of beats, beats penetrating our superior brains through our ears and orifices. We knew it was momentous, we knew our shit and cos we knew, we knew we couldn’t go back, once into the breach and all that. Millzy had unearthed the path, that path for fresh new beats to bounce to. We were on the prepuce, the edge, the drawbridge hidden by Chinese mist that us hardcore dance warriors were crossing to reach the land of jingle Donk. Mythical. Timeless. Can’t go back. Can’t go back. This mix, it was that edge. This was festive Donk.
