SIGNING OFF - by MR BIFFO
What's the definition of comedy? It's this: a super-secret spy guy is trying to break stealthily into a high security installation. He outlines the plan to his comrades in big, dramatic detail, assures them that nothing can possibly go wrong, and then sets off... immediately stepping on a rake, and knocking himself out.
TWIST: This super-secret spy guy... is me!!!!!!
My plan had been to ease my way out of 2016, keep my head down, and try to avoid any major disasters in the final couple of weeks of this horrible year. Unfortunately, I spent all of Monday night in excruciating pain, intermittently vomiting, while reading the news about the assassination of the Russian ambassador to Turkey, and the Berlin Christmas Market tragedy, and wondering if this was the End of Times.
The tummy pain and puking was my own fault: I had an endoscopy last week, during which I learned that I have mild erosive gastritis. It's not the worst thing I could have admittedly - though hilariously, my GP had sent my appointment through emblazoned with the words "SUSPECTED CANCER".
Nonetheless, I'm on medication for it, and in order to let my stomach heal and not aggravate the condition, I'm not meant to be eating much more than gruel over Christmas. No really: actual gruel is one of the few things that's okay to eat. Think of me when you're stuffing your fat face with Quality Street.
Of course, I can rarely avoid a rake, so on Monday night I decided to make myself a massive plate of spicy buffalo wings, which I washed down with a big bowl of Cheetos. Hence: pain-oh-vom-oh.
Two further things you should know: 1) An endoscopy is litertally worst thing ever; 2) Except for gastritis, which is slightly worse.
Hello. I'm a popular comedian called The Man's Daddy. Like most of you... around this time of year, I usually buy a turkey from the supermaket, carve a scary face into it, place a candle inside, and leave it out the front of my house.
Here's a top life-hack: to discourage foxes from stealing your turkey, tie a handbell to your wrist, and stand next to the turkey with a cutlass. Every time you wave the cutlass, the bell will ring, and any nearby foxes might have a heart attack.
The thing I love most at Christmas is laughing. Sometimes I just stand by the Christmas tree in the living room, laughing loudly to myself and others. Sometimes my family ask that I stop. Other times they just leave the room, and let me carry on.
If you'd like the laugh along with me this Christmas, here are some jokes I've written for you to print out, roll up, and slide into your family crackers on Christmas Day. Your relations will no doubt find them considerably more mirthsome than the default funnies you get in most crackers. I hope so anyway. I hope you all like my jokes. Well anyway. Bye then. Yeah, bye. Bye - hope your family like my jokes. Have a good Christmas, yeah? Yeah, ok. Bye then. Bye. Enjoy my jokes, yeah? OK.
THE DIGITISER2000 FRIDAY LETTERS PAGE
Ok, kids! Sexy Christmas U.S.A by Sensorium Girlybox is available to buy NOW, on iTunes and Amazon.
Courtesy of my good friend Jon, we'll also have a very limited run (like... 7) of highly collectible one-sided vinyl singles going up on eBay next week - with sleeves hand-customised by me. Each will be a one-off. All proceeds go to Cancer Research UK.
Here are the links you need to buy it now:
We'd need around 7,500 - 8,000 sales to get it Top 40. Which is a bit of a stretch, but if you can tell as many people about it as possible... that would be a beautiful thing to behold, and also raise money for a good cause. Spread the word. Spread... SPREAD.
In other news: Digitiser2000 will be entering into something of a Christmas schedule for the next couple of weeks. There'll be slightly fewer updates, but there'll be some end-of-year-type goodness - including the traditional Christmas Pant-Oh, and The Man's Daddy's Christmas Cracker jokes - which you'll be able to print out and sneak into your family crackers. So to speak.
I should probably take some time off, as - courtesy of an absolutely horrible endoscopy the other night - I've just found out that the stress of October's Digifest/Block Party gave me erosive gastritis. The last thing I want for Christmas is a stomach ulcer, probably...!
So, this will be the last Friday Letters Page of 2016 - but it'd be nice to depart this horrible year on something of an optimistic note. Therefore, we'll be having one further letters page before New Year, featuring all the best things that happened to you over the last 12 months.
Send your upbeat memories and messages to here: firstname.lastname@example.org
This isn't a review. I don't do reviews of films. Look up above this bit: the title actually says specifically that this isn't a review. I mean, I wrote Pudsey The Dog: The Movie. What the hell do I know about what makes a good film?
So no. Not a review.
However, I know whether or not I enjoy something, so it is my thoughts on Rogue One, as a massive Star Wars fan. In part I'm writing this because I'm trying to process and acknowledge my disappointment, and not spend days trying to convince myself that it was the best thing ever - like I did with The Phantom Menace. Before, y'know, finally admitting to myself that it was terrible and weird, like everyone else did.
Rogue One isn't terrible. It's a servicable action movie, which is painted with big, broad, Star Wars-y brush strokes, many of which put a big, broad smile on my face.
So... why am I disappointed? What's going on? Follow me as I try to find out.
Beware: Here be a few spoilers!
Star Wars toys defined my childhood. They were almost more important to me than the movies themselves, and it's only right - to me - that Lucasfilm is sticking to a Christmas release schedule for the new films. You see, Christmas was the only time I'd be guaranteed fresh toys and figures to play with.
Rogue One is out today, and it's as good a time as any to get some stuff off my chest. I've been bottling this up for decades, and I need to let it go. And it is this: some of the Star Wars figures were really bad.
And these are the worst of the worst: figures so wretched that I couldn't even suspend my disbelief to play with them.
THE ULTIMATE PRANK: SHOW THESE DEPRESSING SNOWMEN TO YOUR DAD AND PRETEND TO HIM THAT YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY ARE!
Christmas time is almost here, and you've probably already started building your snowman. It's a Christmas tradition: get out into that thick, thick snow, and build a sillychillywhiteguy.
Here's a cool idea for adding a little extra winter spice to your Christmas snowman-building: playing a prank on your dad by showing him one of these snowman photos, and pretending not to know what they are!
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