Any Logic to Big Brother's Suggestions on GOOTUBE?

A very good question has been posed.

WHY do certain SUGGESTIONS pop up on GOOTUBE? What's the ALGORHYTHM?? Or to quote the line from the stranger who punched newsman Dan Rather and was never caught: "What's the FREQUENCY?"

If you type in MAISONETTES after typing in Elton John a few times, does that equal GEORGE MICHAEL?

The experiment here, is that typing in MAISONETTES got all manner of weird shit. This included an invitation to watch moments of WWE wrestling "that kids should never watch," and even some kind of come-on identifying rare pennies worth A FORTUNE.

How many of this dubious choices for what to watch next, were based on my previous views, or more insidiously, on previous Google searches? NONE that I can determine. I have never searched WWE phony wrestling shit, or rare American coins. Or any of the other crap that came up.

Do some of these assholes PAY to be pushed high on a search? What good does it do? How many MAISONETTES fans care about some black Pastor's blabber over racial issues? How many MAISONETTES fans ARE THERE? And will we ever know if Lol was getting a LOL over calling his group MAISONETTES rather than MASONETTES?

How come GOOTUBE didn't point me toward other items with MAISONETTES in the title? Why not let me try and find another actual VIDEO?

Another thing that PISSES ME OFF about GOOTUBE videos of songs, is that you can't tell if you're going to get a piece of jukebox shit (the song with a generic photo that never moves) or an actual VIDEO of a live performance.

HOW ABOUT THIS ASSHOLE, who decided to use Lol's song as the background for his SHITTY party snapshots of himself and his retarded drunken friends?

Just why there's a somewhat identical video version, I have no idea. Was this the "official video" they tried to get played on MTV?

Lol almost does the same stares into the camera, and the two pointy-tits tarts are around, once again unable to move their feet.

For a song about heartache, why does the lead singer have TWO bitches alongside him? He doesn't look too lonely does he! Unless they're going steady and he's the lookout.

PS, we still don't see any wires coming off the guitars, and in fact this time, we hardly see a long shot of the band. We do get an asshole drummer doing the drumstick spin, which was corny even in 1982. It doesn't help when you mug for the camera when you do it. Gilson Lavis at least didn't show off directly into the camera on any Squeeze videos.

As to the song itself, yes, it still holds up as a nice mid-tempo pop tune, not nearly as frantic or as campy as what Lol was doing with City Boy. The video? Well, who doesn't like C-cup cuties mincing back and forth? All they have to do is show their profiles and the fact that those ARE tits. They don't even have to dance. You want more movement, go dial up Squeeze and the two bitches on "Cool for Cats." (I know, TWO Squeeze references to one Maisonettes song is a bad ratio)

I do remember this guy rather fondly; one of those friendly but somewhat arm's length types. He had a certain cool, detached sense of misanthropy, which you could glean from listening to his often arch and desultory between-song comments during the City Boy years. Even if he lost a bit more weight he would've been an odd choice for a romantic lead singer in that particular era of the early 80's. He also wasn't about to trim the beard down to just stubble!

Who knows where this guy is today? He'd be able to collect social security if he was in the USA. His former City Boy partner likewise keeps a low profile. Steve was interviewed for having co-written a song with some popular bitch (maybe Lady Gaga, I forget) and when the subject came to his long career in the music biz, he didn't even mention the group he was in! He just said something like, "Well, yes, I had a Top 10 with the group I was in, and then moved behind the scenes..."

As to Lol's partner in the Maisonettes, he's on Farcebook but who knows what he actually does for a living. I hardly noticed him in the video, except that, as usual with staged items like this, there was NO attempt made to pretend he was really playing his guitar. It's the old, "stand around strumming an electric guitar that isn't plugged in" thing.

Where are the two pointy-titted girls? That video was 35 years ago! They are menopausal matrons by now and probably as fat as Adele. Anyone looking them up hoping they still resemble how they looked in the video, will careen down...Heartache Avenue. Oh, excuse me...HEARTAKE AVENUE...

May the FARCE NOT BE WITH YOU

While making my now bi-weekly (if not hebdoabdominal) visits to FARCEBOOK, I noticed many reasons to make it bi-annually instead.

Just two examples.

Ever know a woman who seems to deliberately make herself unappealing? Sad, isn't it?

How about a 50-something actor-comedian with a pretty good sense of detachment and irony, who suddenly goes all soppy over THE WORLD'S WORST AND MOST CLOYING TRIBUTE TO CARRIE AND DEBBIE?

"Goosebumps?" you say? And you get nearly 50 of your idiot friends to LIKE your quiver-lipped knee-jerk love for this SHITTY Crayola job?

"I shall retire to Sussex and keep bees!"

It beats being driven to drink.

La Chances Are....15 Minutes of Fame for another Ugly Dumb Horst

Who the fuck is "Ricky LaChance?"

Some silly-named drag queen, perhaps?

Oh, he's an ARTIST. Like Shauna Cuntwell is a singer.

Apparently Ricky haunts social media doodling his infantile drawings and posting them, hoping he'll be discovered and given a gallery show, his own "how to draw" TV series, or maybe an assignment doing a celebrity picture for the cover of "The New Yorker."

Oooh, ooh, his dreams ALMOST came true.

Sappy Todd Fisher happened to see Ricky's ridiculous drawing, and RE-TWEETED it.

Wowie! It's the thrill every mediocre jerk aspires to: being RE-TWEETED.

And so he had 15 minutes to Tweet about it.

What a puke-inducing sentiment.

But yes, it echoes what Todd Fisher, said. He envisioned Debbie and Carrie together in heaven, 'cause that's what Debbie kept moaning about during funeral arrangements. That she wanted to be with Carrie.

Yes, Debbie and Carrie in heaven together.

As depicted by fat, untalented jerky Ricky LaFart?

What a shitty piece of..."art."

You notice this moron drew them from the BACK. Could it be because he can't draw faces too well? That he barely has a school kid's ability to draw figures at all?

Is this what they call "primitive?" Or "outsider art?" It sure as fuck is what you see on eBay from thousands upon thousands of pests. They do their ACEO "tribute" drawings to pop culture figures and expect people to buy.

Think this Ricky LaDouche could even draw Carrie as well as THAT piece of trash?

Never underestimate the kitsch and sentiment of the average moron, including Todd Fisher. Just because he's Debbie's son and Carrie's sister doesn't mean he has good taste in art.

Wow, what a hackneyed concept. Debbie and Carrie are not REAL DEAD PEOPLE. They are their most famous MOVIE ROLES.

When they died, Carrie put on her "Star Wars" outfit, and Debbie got her "Singing in the Rain" outfit, and they're on this eternal Yellow Brick Road, walking and smiling on a treadmill to oblivion. (I borrowed "treadmill to oblivion" from Fred Allen, who is long dead and never made a hit film, ergo, he is NOT the subject of a Ricky LaChance work of ART.)

Where the fuck are Carrie and Debbie? "Rainbow Bridge?" Oh, no, that's for your pet cat or dog. Are they going through infinite space like the frightened astronaut in "2001?" No no, they are IN COSTUME, marching along a ribbon of golden highway in the sky, a ribbon that just isn't visible to astronomers.

Gad. The tragedy of Carrie and Debbie dying (two women whose movies I do not care ANYTHING about), is that they brought any fame to cloying, turd-faced Ricky Horst. Er, Ricky LaChance.

He's put his name BIG on the drawing, because it's copyrighted, right? It's HIS art. HE can make it into t-shirts or magnets or whatever. I bet he's hurrying at this very moment to do drawings of George Michael and David Bowie and set up a fucking website.

Being Re-Tweeted "made me feel joy," he burbled. That drawing made me feel like punching him in his ugly fat face.

I hope that doesn't sound rude.

How about just stomp on his hand so he can't do anything as annoying ever again?

Suckerberg Sees God, and Sean Mourns Carrie

What's the latest with FARCEBOOK?

IF I'M BEING HONEST, my New Year's Resolution is to stop wasting a lot of time there.

I almost vowed to NEVER post there again, but I've amended that. I'm just being VERY selective. And I'm limiting my time to maybe once every two weeks, and then for less than 10 minutes. That's enough to see anything important or truly amusing.

For some reason, Suckerberg decided to tell the world that he's got religion. He's not saying WHAT religion. Maybe he wants the Muzzies to think that he's an Allah fan. Or at least, not a heathen, so don't hack or destroy him or his fabulous website.

He's admitted he was born Jewish (hard to deny it with the obvious Jewish name, and the Jewish cliche of marrying an Asian, as Mort and Woody did).

The important thing is that he is NOT an ATHEIST.

So leave him, Priscilla CHAN, and MAX and BEAST alone. It's some kind of fucking Yuppie thing to name kids Max. It's "earthy," you know, not like having a last name for a first name, like Taylor or Tyler. No, no, "MAX." Whether it's a male or female. And a dog's name? "Dog" is always good, but "Beast" is real clever.

He hasn't said where the fuck his God might be, but he is NOT an ATHEIST, so don't come after him, ye religious fanatics and antisemites.

"Religion is important." Right, Mark. ISIS sure thinks so. Or they pretend to. WE know the heads of religion tend to be pedophiles, power mad dictators and debauched douchebags. But their followers will die for the cause, convinced of a reward in HEAVEN."

Religious fanatics thump their Bible or Koran, and show off these fucking depictions of angels in the clouds. HEAVEN. But modern science has proven that there ARE no angels in the clouds. There's no heaven or hell. "Above us only sky," and beyond that, billions upon billions of stars and galaxies. As Bill Hoobastank DOESN'T know, despite watching "2001" a zillion times, space is pretty fucking INFINITE.

And yet, Muzzie monkeys rave to the sky as if Allah is looking down from a nearby cloud: "Look, I just killed 50 Egyptian Christians...look, I just murdered 50 gays...I just killed all sorts of people at an airport and even some Muslims..."

Has anyone asked a RELIGIOUS fanatic where exactly God is? Which cloud?

No, nobody dares ask because you question a fanatic and the fanatic will take out a knife and kill you.

If you talk to an INTELLIGENT religious fanatic, like your neighborhood priest or rabbi, the answer will be, "Er, uh, God is ALL AROUND. God is, er, uhhh, invisible, and sees all..." and all those cloud paintings were just "depictions" people should not have believed?

All the religious fanatics BELIEVE. Ohhh, do they BELIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE.

They are schizoid. Demented. Wacko. You can reason with them about as well as you can reason with Shelley Duval. Or anyone in a strait-jacket in a rubber room.

God has been keeping watch for a 100 million years, and watched the dinosaurs come and go? THEN he suddenly decides to create Adam and Eve? And what was the point of creating Uranus and Jupiter? For show? He chose to create Venus and Mars for fun, too? He created the sun and decided to toss a few planets around it? What a set designer!

Considering God could've made humans magical, he chose to create a complex bunch of veins, arteries and organs, which can go defective?

He also figured that 40 years was long enough for the average human to live, but he upped it to 50, and to 70? But some die at birth and some go past 100? Mysterious ways indeed.

Or do you believe his son was Jesus, or that he ordained Mohammed? How about big fat Buddha? What about those silly Greeks and Romans who believed there was a different God for everything? What a SILLY idea. We've disproved that. There's only ONE God.

Considering how pissed off he was thousands of years ago when he had Noah build a boat and he flooded the Earth, what's going on now? He's letting us destroy the Earth ourselves so he doesn't have to?

A lot of killing goes on just on the crazy notion there are 60 virgins and a bunch of goats waiting...SOMEWHERE. Hey, Habib, WHERE? You're ready to behead some white guy who is a doctor and trying to help your people. The doctor is just going to moulder like rancid meat? But when YOU get shot to pieces by troops who arrived, YOU are going...WHERE? Which cloud has the goats and virgins, asshole?

Maybe Suckerberg knows.

Meanwhile...there was an interesting post on Farcebook from Sean Lennon. So, he leaned on Carrie Fisher for help? More than big brother Julian, or the wise Yoko herself. After all, Carrie's parents were Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher, and while they quickly became has-beens trading on a few years of hit record or movie fame, they were, what, in the same league as John and Yoko? Eddie was shot down by a deranged fan? Oh well, Carrie I'm sure had LOTS of advice to Sean, beyond "take some pills, drink some booze, and throw yourself at Harrison Ford and Dan Aykroyd."

Ay Chihuahua! De PEEEEEET BUUUULLL!

What do I like? Stories about fucking pit bulls who attack their obnoxious owners.

Who the FUCK owns pit bulls besides gutter trash and low-life monkeys who want one to guard their crap?

The whole POINT of this breed is that it's vicious. It's a status symbol for "macho" Latinos to leash one and scare the crap out of everyone while going for a walk. It's for rednecks who need a watchdog barking in the back yard. It's for anyone stupid.

And sometimes, they pay the price. Here's a moronic Latina bitch and a pitbull adorably named SCARFACE.

The hideous Trump may or may not "BUILD A WALL" to prevent shit heads like HER from polluting Florida even further, and he may back off on any plan to keep out psycho immigrants, but one thing he will DEFINITELY NOT be doing, is banning pit bulls. They're SO good for the economy...for pet stores, for pet food companies, for emergency wards...

The Balls Drop in Times Square

"Ach du Loser! It is ME, Herr Lange, alias Eatin Like a Horst!

"I vas zo lucky! I read der Disgusted blog, und how Horst could get a Whore! Yah! I think to mein self, maybe I should squirt some hot fat from mein schnitzel, und hire a real New York whore, like da real tourists do!

"I valk along der 8th avenue, und I use mein laptop to check der Craigslist und I see de ads in der free noose peppers, too. Und I found a budget bimbo. Mein leibling! Such a beauty! I vas in awe! Best of all, der dumplings on der chest! Yah!"

"She had a room in der Times Square hotel dat rents by de hour, zo mit dat, und her fee...vell...all I could afford vas to do it myself while she vent topless und looked into der camera for me! Vatta souvenir! She refused to look at mein face, but who can blame her?

"I shprinkled mein pubes mit der sausage sauce, said DANKE SCHOEN, and waddled out to take der bus back up to 103rd Street. All de vay back on der bus, people were glaring at me mit disgust, shaking dere heads. It turned out I forgot to zip my fly. Oh, vas I embarrassed!

"Der big surprise vas dat dey could see mein schmuck. Mein schmuck in mein open pants is like der pea in der pod. How did everybody see it from der seats across from me?

"Der next morning I rode der bus und thought I vas again exposed. How disappointed I vas. My fly vas zipped, but shtill, I got dere glares of disgust, and everybody shaking der heads. Dey act like dey never saw a 300 pound squinty middle-aged load of Horst before!

"Mein question for today: do I go to der cash machine und get more money for der whore, or go back to der Apple store und play mit da new products? Ach, both give me equal pleasure..."

Grimsby Telegraph's 2016 SELFIE OF The YEAR WINNER

You know Cilla Blackledge, the famous photographer and EX-comment maven at THE GRIMSBY TELEGRAPH. You know her to be even-tempered, humorous and quite intelligent. Why, Steve Martin might even say that while initially you find her attractive, LATER, you come to see how talented and bright she is.

Well, Cilla showed another side today. "Happy Fucking New Year," she hollered, drunk out of her mind.

She threw an ash tray, she threw a chair, and then she threw up.

"Good Lord, what's all this then?" I asked.

"An ash tray, a chair, and a pile of puke," she said.

"No no, what's gotten you so crazed? Were you watching Knickerless Pain videos or something?"

"It's that fucking TELL-A-LAUGH," she said. "They pulled a fast one. They found a way to NOT use my pictures! They ran a SELFIE contest!"

I checked the website, and said, "I don't see any such contest, Cil. You imagine things when you drink."

"Maybe the Grimsby editor pulled them down. He's always pulling things down. Especially his pants in public toilets."

I almost thought Cilla had just gotten drunk and imagined it all, but she DID send me photos she said were of the three finalists.

FINISHING THIRD:

Shauna Fiverr.

She's discovered that it's easy to get money on the Internet by talking dirty. She charges 5 pounds the first minute, 1 pound each additional by phone. Texting is twice the price, because she can't spell and has to take time to look things up. Like, whether blowjob is two words or not.

If you're in the Dublin area, she'll double over and let you pound her ass or her twat. She finished out of the money here, because she offered to fuck guys on the staff of the Grimsby Telegraph, unaware that most are either gay or mongoloid.

FINISHING SECOND:

Victoria Street-West

Though no relation to Kim Kardashian-West, Victoria IS just as much of a stupid slut. Arrested for false advertising, when referring to her twat as "Freshney Place," there's nothing fresh about Victoria, except maybe her mouth. She's been known to shock people by saying disgustingly evocative things like, "Fuck and Off," and "Piss and Shit" and "Dec and Ant."

She wrote "SEX" and "SLAVE" on herself, because her boobs weren't big enough for her full name and phone number. Indeed, a Google of "SEX" and "SLAVE" will often turn up her full name and phone number.

THE WINNER:

Cleo Thorpes

According to Cilla, "The contest was RIGGED. I recognize those tits! This is a bitch on the Telegraph staff. That's a fake name. What a corrupt rotten newspaper. That's an old selfie, too. She sent that to her mother when she joined the Telelgraph staff, which is so full of mindless low-class whores.

"They put in the fix, and had HER declared the winner! Blast their eyes! She has a shaved twat, and the winner gets a twat toupee made out of the beard that the mortician shaved off of David Gest's face before he was buried! If I won that, I would've made a fortune selling it on eBay! I have to spend all day photographing a wedding to get that kind of money."

By this time, Cilla had sobered enough to apologize for the mess she made. "So sorry, about the broken chair, broken ash tray, and puke all over the floor. And even sorrier that YOU have to clean it up. But I've got a wedding to photograph, so, byeeeeeeee!"