A wee note on the dead pool

Of course, you all know I'm completely offended by this. Absolutely. Not amused in the slightest. Nope.

Anyway, the thing is, I know it's easy to be an armchair critic and all that, but seriously? How could no one have had Pavarotti on their list?

OK, so it's not as many points as Anna Nicole Smith, but still.

Tragic.


And, with that, if you are not Al, Stu, Dave or closely allied to one of those three , you want to stop reading here.

I mean it.

Now boys, while we're at it on the offensive stuff, let's just have a chat about the Aristocrats.

Aside from the minor issue that it is the most disturbing joke on the face of the planet, and I'm yet to sit through an entire version of it (word from the wise here - if you didn't do as I said, have kept reading, and you don't know it, don't go looking for it. You won't thank me for it. I'll guarantee it.), I've heard the beginnings of a number of different tellings.

The thing is though, that I've been mulling on this since I heard (slash watched) (part of) the Aladdin version a wee while ago (thanks Dave). Obviously, I was suitably horrifed and I don't think my children will ever own Aladdin, just because ... but what continues to disturb me most about it, is that the very worst version I have ever heard, by a country mile and then some, continues to be Bob Saget's.

It's just wrong. Very, very wrong.