1 - Stop growling at motorbikes. It's a waste of time.

2 - Clean some of the corpses out of the corner of the old pit. The smell keeps making guests vomit all over the lovely crockery. 

3 - Spend a little bit less time staring at testicles and weeping. I know they're in a right old state and look like a sand blasted tomato but there's not much that can be done about that now. Time to pick yourself up and move on. Get a new hobby / go for a little jog. Anything to take your mind off those wretched bollocks.

4 - See a bit less of Martin Clunes.

5 - Stop getting married to moths. (This shouldn't be that difficult. Concentrate. You can do this.)

6 -  Start being a bit more honest with people. If Sexy Chris turns up wearing leather trousers again then don't just smile politely, tell him he looks like a fucking cunt. Urge him to take his own life.

7 - Break it off with Emma Watson. There's no sexual chemistry and you both know it.

8 - Murder more hens

9 - Eat more/some fruit

10 - Stop moonwalking every time you see Bunty Hoven. She's not impressed and last time you did it you fell off the shed roof and she thought you were a fucking bell end. 



1 - My paw

2 - My tail

3 - You know those little taps you get on the side of some houses? I think they're probably for a garden hose or something. Little brass tap. Well anyway, I put one of them in my gob and then I put it in my bum.

4 - Lamb (ancient / rank) - I found this in the boot of Gary Barlow's Land Rover. (Under the kites)

5 - A cygnet*

6 -  Julian Blanch (a moth)

7 - Old bread (Hovis, Best of Both - Expiry date 29/10/12)

8 - My left ball/nut - i.e the one that isn't black and revolting and doesn't smell like the end of the world.

9 - Tent pegs / porridge 

10 - Wood lice (32 of the bastards)

11 - An AC adaptor for a Panasonic KX T1418 2 Cassette Remote Answering machine.

12 - Clunes / Martin Clunes (fist/ears/tongue)

13- Rats  

14 - Wax (I set my head on fire doing this one - Hahahhahahahaha)

15- A couple of hours ago I, sort of, licked the exhaust pipe of a van. Does that count? Does that count? I suppose it's my list. Yeah, I licked the exhaust pipe at the back of the van (Citroen Berlingo) and it tasted like soot and I got a bit of an erection and I started crying. It was weird. Won't be making that mistake again. 

*Owen Cromwell 


Don't hang yourself just yet because GREAT NEWS! I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here is back to make the run up to Christmas seem just a little bit less fun. Once again, a team of N-List "celebrities" are dumped in the jungle and forced to do things that even I wouldn't consider, for the amusement of Ant and Dec.
If you have posters of Eric Bristow, Colin Baker and former Birds of a Feather actress Linda Robson plastered all over your bedroom wall then you're in for a real treat this year because they're all going to be there, eating bollocks, curling one out behind a tree and then weeping themselves to sleep inside their mosquito nets. Magical stuff.
As a fan of torture and humiliation I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out Of Here  is pretty much one of the only TV programmes that I give a single shit about. I'll quite often pop over to my mate Cwis Packham's bungalow to catch up on all the latest antics from ITV's premonitory take on what the end of the world might look like. Me and Cwis will often sit there with tears rolling down our cheeks whilst someone who used to be on Hollyoaks suffers a panic attack and starts regurgitating up the eyeballs they were forced to eat to avoid getting a bollocking off someone who used to be in The Bill. Absolutely first class.
When it's all over, Packham and myself will quite often sit around coming up 'Bushtucker Trials' that we'd like to see. 
Here are my top five.

A few weeks ago my mate Vile Clive got his head stuck in a bottle bank. I'm not sure how he managed it, or what the fuck he was trying to achieve, but he ended up four feet off the ground with a bunch of wasps stinging his face and little boy inserting wine bottle into his bum. He finally escaped by using his own piss as a lubricant. 
I'd quite like to see all round TV Entertainer, Brian Conley taking on that one.

This year I would like to see Made In Chelsea star, Hugo Taylor waterboarded like a Vietnamese prisoner of war. Waterboarding is a form of torture in which water is poured over the face of an immobilized captive, thus causing the individual to experience the sensation of drowning. Waterboarding can cause extreme pain, dry drowning, damage to lungs and brain damage from oxygen deprivation. If he completes the task without losing his mind then he wins a dozen eggs for the camp.

It's always very amusing watching tasks which involve wildlife, particularly if you despise animals and enjoy watching them suffer. In this challenge, the contestant is trapped in a filthy pit with hundreds of rats and when the klaxon goes off, one of the walls begins to close in like something from Indiana Jones. The only way to avoid being killed is to pick up the rats, one by one, and jam them into the enormous gears and cogs which power the crushing machine. After they're all clogged up with bits of bone and fur a gold star is released which Eastender's actress, Charlie Brooks can take back to the camp and trade in for Supernoodles.. 

Watching someone eat something when they're not inside it can be a right yawn-fest. A few weeks ago I climbed inside a pig and ate my way out because my mate Sexy Chris told me that it wasn't possible. Well it is bloody possible and if ITV want to start getting some serious viewing figures then they'll make Conservative MP, Nadine Dorries, climb inside a water buffalo via the anus and eat her way out using cutlery that she's whittled from bamboo. 

Everything always seems to be on a plate for these "celebrities". They sit down, tuck into a wombat's testicle - which has been presented on a silver plate with a nice little side salad - do a bit of retching and expect us to all to believe that isn't just a boiled egg. Well, when you live in wild you have to fight for your dinner and sometimes that makes eating certain 'bits' a bit more challenging, let me tell you.
In this challenge, WBA heavyweight champion, David Haye has to fight a live kangaroo to the death in a bout of bare-knucke boxing, before gnawing it's eyes out in order to retrieve the gold star from the bastard's pouch. It's literally the only way to keep things interesting.


A list of redeeming features

Well I'm pretty much coming up with nothing to be honest. They're covered in revolting spines so they aren't worth eating for a kick off. I've basically never met a hedgehog who I didn't think was a complete cunt. 
I used to know a hedgehog called Robert Cluster. On one occasion he invited me over to his place for dinner and, as I recall, he spent the entire evening defending the actions of that bozo Ian Huntley. I finished my blancmange, made my excuses and left. You'll certainly do very well to find a bigger tosser than Robert Cluster.. 

1 - Wake up

2 - Yawn and have a little think about the day ahead.

3 - Vomit up yesterday's dinner (bugs / slop / filth etc) in corner of revolting pit

4 - Have a little look at bollocks (Oh dear. They're not looking in very good nick today are they? At least they haven't fucking fallen off yet)

5 - Breakfast 

6 -  Wander up canal taking some time out to bark at swans and people in wheelchairs

7 - Meet Sexy Chris (Why is Sexy Chris dressed up as Jesus? Sexy Chris is such a knob)

8 - Continue wandering about. (Have a mince through the graveyard for instance) 

9 - Visit Clunes

10 - Rummage through bins / Make a right pig's ear of some cunt's driveway

11 - Visit prostitutes for snacks and cuddles. 

12 - Return to lodgings

13 - Have an unpleasant and painful shit at mouth of cave

14 - Curl up and fall asleep (whilst mumbling about wasps)

*  Make sure to constantly scream and yell like an idiot, for no reason, between points 6 and 10


Finally, a solution to an age old problem. This one legged dungaree is just what the doctor ordered for the modern eel with shit to do. 
Comes with a large front pocket, ideal for carrying rocks, silt, weeds and canned goods up and down stream.
Also available in beige.
Say goodbye to non-musical snakes with the MUSICAL SNAKE HELMET. 
The Musical Snake Helmet is a simple transistor radio attached to a small helmet that will fit any grass snake, adder or slow worm.
Simply strap the helmet to the nearest serpent and then sit back and let the good times roll.
Requires 12 x 9 volt batteries


Nothing's more frustrating than a dustbin with a lid on it, especially when you know full well that it's absolutely full to the brim with medical waste (bollocks, tits, lungs etc) like the one up at the hospital.
The Bin Rod makes lifting the lid off tricky refuse containers an absolute doddle and the carved mahogany handle says "Who's this suave customer?" to any cunt you happen to bump into on your rounds. An absolute must-have for the modern gent who enjoys licking vile filth out of bins.

Not sure how this would work, but it's basically a wasp that will never grow old and die. It's basically an immortal wasp. It'd be amazing. You'd never be lonely again. Just trying to sort out the nitty-gritty.

It can be dangerous and annoying when you're trying to eat a battered crow that's been squashed in the middle of a dual carriageway and you have to keep running out of the way of traffic to avoid joining the bastard in the afterlife.
You can't move it because it's stuck fast with it's guts. Not a problem with THE INFLATOR!
The Inflator is a small pump attached to a length of pipe. Simply stick the pipe into the dead cunt's throat and then roll the pump into the path of oncoming traffic. Each time a wheel passes over the pump, a jet of air will be sent into the crow's lungs until eventually it should start to inflate and then you can just roll it off into the woods and eat it in peace. 
NB: The pump could be disguised as a pheasant so that drivers would aim for it instead of swerving out of it's way.
Not sure if anyone will want one of these to be honest. It's basically a sort of gun / crossbow that shoots mice at swans. Don't even know what the point of this is yet to be honest. I've got a good mind to stop building the bugger.
I'd quite like it to be mainly digital. 
Was also thinking it might be quite nice if it had a picture of Pauline Quirk from 'Birds of a Feather' on the handle. 
I'll be honest, I sort of need to go back to the drawing board on this one a bit.
I might fuck this one off actually. Can't exactly see Duncan Bannatyne biting my hand off for this one.



It’s that magical time of year again when nothing can be heard apart from the deafening and infinite orchestra of ambulance sirens as the entire city becomes illuminated by flashing blue lights like some sort of particularly shit rave. The streets are chock-a-block with pikees launching fireworks into traffic whilst ambulances dart from place-to-place carrying screaming idiots whose faces now resemble a plate of Spaghetti Bolognese that’s been prepared by someone who has a pair of Black and Decker Orbital Sanders instead of hands. It’s like living in Basra, except it’s fucking freezing so it’s even worse.
Bonfire night is one of the shittest days of the year, particularly if you’re an animal or someone who doesn’t like being on fire. Here are a few things you can do to avoid being an enormous cunt.

1 – Always check (poke/prod/etc) the bonfire before lighting the bastard.

It can be very, very funny when an animal catches fire, no one is denying that, but sometimes, when the animal in question is a bit of laugh (or particularly tasty), it can just be a bit of a waste.
I used to know a hedgehog called Lawrence Fleece who lived in a big pile of leaves and twigs at the bottom of Ian Botham’s garden. Last bonfire night Beefy set the entire heap on fire without taking a couple of minutes to check if it was someone’s house and Lawrence was burnt to death.
To start with everyone was pretty bummed out because Lawrence was quite a nice lad (despite the fact that he quite often wore a ‘Black Eyed Peas’ T-shirt). It later transpired, however, that Lawrence had been noncing up kids so everyone stopped giving a shit and now everyone thinks that old Beefy is a right proper legend.

2 – Check your sparkler has been fully extinguished before you lob it in the bush.

Sparklers can reach 2000 ÂșC, which is five times hotter than boiling cooking oil. Amusing when a young child burns their hand on it, sure, but not so funny when you end up like a fox I used to know called Glen Cake.
Three years ago, me and my mate Glen were wandering up the canal when we found a sparkler in the undergrowth. Glen thought it would be quite funny to put it in his mouth and pretend he was smoking one of those fancy cigarettes that posh people smoke in poncey holders (he was already wearing a top hat and had a monocle – I forget why). Anyway, the sparkler must have only just been discarded because as soon as he put it in his gob his head caught fire and blew up. One of his eyes flew across the canal and smashed a window on a barge. I licked his brain and it gave me a little electric shock on my tongue. It was a really weird night.

3 – Lock cats and Dogs in the house.

This rule shouldn’t just apply to bonfire night. Lock them up in a dark room and throw away the bloody key. I hate cats and dogs.

4 – Don’t launch fireworks out of your bum

This is sort of one of those rules that’s made to be broken because if you can pull it off then it’s truly magnificent. However, if you’re not large enough then the shear force of the firework can prove to be a bit of a problem. My mate Sexy Chris (an owl) once tried to fire a  ‘Neutron 5000 Power Rocket’ out of his arsehole but he wasn’t holding on to anything and he ended up being dragged into the sky by the rocket where it blew all his feathers off and ruptured most of his internal organs. The whole thing really messed him up because now he can see sounds, hear colours and sometimes he lays a little egg out of his penis that’s full of salt. He’s really poorly.

NB. This stunt can also go wrong if you insert the firework the wrong way round. I once saw a donkey make this mistake. Some people will tell you that it wasn’t the donkey’s idea and that I put it up there and knew exactly what I was doing. I tell those people to keep their bloody noses out. The donkey’s dead now anyway so it doesn’t even matter.

5 – Never return to a firework that’s already been lit.

Obviously don’t ever return to a firework that’s already been lit unless you want to end up looking like a fried breakfast that’s been served on Pete Burns’ head. It is however very amusing to advise other people to do the opposite. I once convinced a hen to go and reignite the fuse of a Roman Candle and I couldn’t have timed it better because as soon as the prick bent down to relight the bastard the bloody thing went off and set him on fire. He ended up running into the middle of a motorway and causing a pile up. I laughed so hard that I gave myself a hernia and accidentally did a little poo. That was the best bonfire night ever.