The Palace: it's bad and YOU know you love it!

Apologies for delay - I was overtaken by events yesterday.

Oh man, was ITV's The Palace a roaring watch the other night; it may as well have had the tagline "from the team who brought you Party Animals" and even has a cast member of that fantabulosa series playing the same role in this Royal romp (as the Sun would doubtless have it) as she did in Hot Tory Babes Shagging. Cast below for information, full update later.

Note: the cast list on the official site is somewhat limited so I would appreciate it if people could email me or post in the comments the real names of some of the characters. In addition, some are too boring for nicknames but I'm open to suggestions.


The Incredible Hulk (King Richard IV)
Rupert Evans

After his father croaks it at the opera (an understandable, if novel, reaction to being told you're in for four hours of Wagner) the Hulkman becomes King. He spends the first episode being all agonised about being young and partay-happy and suddenly being required to shoulder the responsibilities of being King...yadda yadda yadda. Goes "grrrrr! Smash!" a lot when reminded of said responsibilities but assuages the pain by allowing himself to be dry-humped by the PM's press secretary (Posh Spice) on the throne. Saucy.



Queen Georgina Best (the Queen Mum - gawd bless yer, Ma'am!)
Jane Asher

Deals with the death of her husband in the first thirty seconds of the programme by hitching herself up to an intravenous drip containing a cocktail of special brew, gin, and horse tranquilisers. Thereafter staggers around Buck House shouting "what the f*ck do you think you're looking at?", weeping irrationally, and demanding kebabs. I think (and it's only a hunch, mind) that they are going to give us a media-get-hold-of-pictures-of-pished-Queen-Mum storyline later in the series.



Lady Macbeth (Princess Eleanor)
Sophie Winkleman

I think she's the eldest child but gets passed over after daddy dies because she has one of those pesky vagina things. She's determined to be top dog somehow, and eventually realises that singing "when will I, will I be famous?" in the mirror with a hairbrush ain't gonna get her nowhere, sister. Enlists the help of sidekick Mr Smithers to diss her brother in order that she can ascend the throne and enjoy all its benefits (possibly including the dry humping).



Pete Doherty (Prince George)
Sebastian Armesto

For the benefit of ITV's lawyers, we'd just like to make it clear that Pete is in NO WAY based on Prince Harry. No sir. This youngster spends his time larging it up old skool, taking lots of drugs, and shagging an inexhaustable supply of willing birds, who ALL like him for his charm, good looks, intelligence and ready wit.




Princess Bratz (Princess Isabelle)
Nathalie Lunghi

Youngest daughter of the old king who had her dialogue written for her by some bloke in his late nineties who got his inspiration by listening to old episodes of Go For It! Wicked! Yeah!






Mr Smithers (Major Simon Brooks)
David Harewood

Thinks that Lady Macbeth should be King of the Castle instead of the Hulk and vows to assist her in this regard.



Poison Ivy (Abigail Thomas)
Zoe Telford

The personal assistant to the Incredible Hulk, whose major tasks are keeping him and Pete in birds, booze, and narcotics. What a lass, eh? Apparently not: she's actually writing an expose of life in the Palace. The fact that she would have signed the Official Secrets Act and, should she publish, she would swiftly discover a whole new meaning to the words "at His Majesty's Pleasure" is something that doesn't seem to have occured to her.


Generic Prime Minister (The Prime Minister)
That bloke who was in Midsomer Murders

Appalled and outraged at the new Kings press plan which will involve telling the Truth to ordinary people about the Royal Family instead of spinning and lying which is of course what politicians like to do all the time, just to upset Quentin Letts. He doesn't get an avatar because he's too nonedescript.


Posh Spice (Generic Prime Minister's bag-carrier)
Shelley Conn

In spite of being promoted from bag-carrier to Fat Tony in Party Animals to bag-carrier to the PM in The Palace, poor old Posh seems to serve the same function in both: the Shag of Shame to the most important male in the series.

The Return of the Shawcross One
Partial resumation of the BBF for the duration of "The Palace"

It is a truth universally acknowledged that nothing can distract Hamer Shawcross successfully from his busy workload, an impossible financial situation, and nagging bosses like the prospect of some SERIOUSLY crap TV.

The Palace (tonight, ITV) promises to scratch my itch admirably. Apparently it's centred around a fictional Royal Family (how DO they think of them, eh?) and the arguing over who gets to wear the nice hat with all the twinkly bits after the old king shuffles off this mortal coil. And judging from the adverts and the website, there's going to be plenty more besides for those of us who can't afford to subscribe to those "special" channels on our Sky menu. God bless ITV!

SEE! Lots of posh fruity bits shagging each other!
MARVEL! At the evilness and general skulduggery. For is it not written in the Writing Contemporary Drama By Numbers Handbook that there will be much sexing between members of the Royal Family and the political classes? (All: yea!)
GASP! At the edginess of the series. A drama? About the Royal Family? Whatever next? A satirical song by a bunch of punk rockers entitled "God Save The Queen"? Sacrilege! Nothing like this for "oh my god!" factor has been attempted since Sergeant Troy was replaced after he left Midsomer Murders to "pursue other projects"

Anyway, this is the closest we've got to a political drama since the superb Party Animals and wonderful Amazing Mrs Pritchard ended and I for one will be watching with baited breath.

Swansong
Here endeth the flight of Margarita

When things come to an end, one's mind necessarily drifts back to what they were like in the beginning: scenes of yesteryear and half remembered snatches of bygone times float dreamily before the mind's eye.

Apt therefore, that the last post of the BBF is covering a Question Time in which the panel resembled a 1980s disco reunion. And contained Janet Street-Porter. Nuff said.

Frankly, it was a crap QT...you know what it's like: it's the beginning of the season and the players are out of shape, the crowd are lolling around. The mood is not improved when Dimbers (in Ultimate Bumble mode) announces that - under pressure from viewers who have written in to say that the comments from the panel make them want to throw things at the screen (the panel?) - the powers-that-be have decided that there is to be a Question Time Extra on BBC389422309 immediately after the main show.

Superb.

Cheers Dimbers, but if I'm allowed a choice between that and the second worse-case scenario, I reckon I'll be removing my testicles with a rusty spoon, thanks all the same.

Anyway, we kick off with John Redwood on (predictably) Northern Rock; his strangled attempt to explain how it's EXCLUSIVELY Gordon's fault reminds us precisely why the British public decided that this lot weren't to be trusted in charge of the paperclip budget let alone anything else.

Janet, resplendent in a new wig, weighs in with, "gorblimeyguvnorinniteeehallllhahahaha."

Either the audience understands the ancient language of Street-Porter or they just assume she Said Something Nasty about the Government: honking and clapping ensues. Geoff Hoon attempts to make wider point about the impact of the global market on domestic economic matters, but Janet's had enough of it: "achhhisavemyooohmoneyinnit!" Quite right.

We move on to Thatch's visit to Downing Street. The question is posed by a lady of advanced years and Dimbers makes a crack about "getting down and dirty," with her, although the Shawcross ears contrived to shut out the worst of it for fear of the consequent nightmares.

Redwoood, who is muttering "betrayer, terrible, revenge soon take out everyone" at the memory of Brown fondling Maggie through the front door of Number 10, comes to long enough to claim he's glad they had a nice tea party. Like, whatever.

Up next is the inevitable student who squeaks that there is no difference between Brown and Thatcher, that they are one and the same. Yeah. Proof, if e'er further proof were needed that our universities are the laughing stock of the world. Dimbers moves on to whether there will be a general election this autumn, and Hoon has to give his answer four times whilst Dimbleby stares at him blankly. Seriously, I thought Buff was going to have to get out the hand-puppets at one point. "This is Mr Prime Minister, and this is Mr Opposition Leader and when they hate each other very, very much..."

Janet takes advantage of the confusion to make use of the £1.95 she pays whatever intern writes her jokes and cracks a jibe about Sarah Brown's hair. Irrespective of what this has to do with the price of fish, people in glasshouses just shouldn't, Wiggy.

Then it descends into the predictable insania when the abuses in Zimbabwe are brought up. The audience is simultaneously against intervention in Iraq (natch) but, er, pro bombing the shite out of Zimbabwe. WTF? Hoon - in a noble attempt to stop the audience grabbing their torches and pitchforks and getting NUCLEAR on Mugabe's ass, reminds us that Brown is refusing to attend the Portugal meeting if the Zimbabwe leader's there. Wooooah, dude. What's next on the Labour agenda? Banning Mugabe from Facebook?

Janet: distinguishedlunchloadsajournosIwastherefudgedanswernooodialogueagrheawfhsej!

We conclude on the subject of whether Ming's too old for office. Some young pup who looks about fifteen gives his view on the matter which nobody listens to because the cameraman has zoomed in on the bazongas of the fruity bit sitting next to him. Janet attempts a strangled analogy, likening Ming to tapioca, frozen peas, and...er...custard. No, me neither - Lord knows what she was on about but I'll tell you this: her farts must be DISTRESSING. Pack her off to Zimababwe and Mugabe'll be gassed into surrender. Sorted.

A rather lame one to finish, I'm afraid.

Well, that's it. The end.

EXEUNT OMNES

And Then There Were None
Advance notice of the prorogation of the BBF

Faithful readers may have guessed by the lack of sparkling wit on here of recent months that reality (and the need to work for food) has reduced my capacity to post on here as I was once - just about - able.

Unfortunately it would appear that this situation is going to get worse before it gets better so rather than leave the BBF lingering around - like a fart in the ether of t'interweb - I propose that we go out with a bang. Well, an online bang at any rate.

The place: in front of BBC1
The time: 10.35pm, Thursday 20th September
The venue: Question Time, as it returns for the autumn term of Parliament.

This shall be Hamer's final hurrah, so stand by your beds.

Comrades, it's been fun: I'll remember with gratitude everyone who commented on posts, emailed in with witty remarks, and was generally a good laugh. As to those of you who threatened me, attempted to "out" me as various people I've never met, and tried to post porn in the comments...well, you I'll just remember.

Maybe I'll be back, maybe not - we'll just have to see how things go. Emotional, innit?

BBF EXCLUSIVE!

Brown unveils new advisor on coalfields regeneration

In a move described as "all spin" by veteran blogger Guido Fawkes, Gordon Brown met today with his new advisor on issues relating to former mining areas:




"Baroness Thatcher, or Maggie her friends call her, has a wealth of valuable experience on this subject and I am proud to have her in my Cabinet of all the talents," he said.

The Prime Minister added that she would also be advising the Government on trade union relations, unemployment, and the importance of calcium to in school meals but would not be drawn on whether the executive would actually contain any members of the Labour Party after the next reshuffle, nor whether "all the talents" encompassed any politician who had previously passed within half an mile of Tony Blair.

Jingle bells, jingle bells!

Well, it's the first week of September so naturally the minds of our comrades in the retail sector turn to Christmas and all its attendant delights.

With this in mind, I've come up with some stonking presents if, any of my readers are in marketing and are interested:

Farm set: an old favourite with a modern twist, this set comes with sheep, cows, pigs, barns, chickens, EU inspectors, DEFRA officials, a Sky-copter, a burning pyre, a phalanx of journalists spreading FMD, and a suitably outraged farmer doing a live interview.

Bulemic Barbie: says "ohmigod I'm sooooo fat" when you press her stomach and then vomits convincingly. She's A Strong Woman Who Knows Her Own Mind (copyright Nikki, 21, Hull) all right!

Superman: comes complete with tent, dreadlocks, and self-righteous expression. Says "don't fly man it's, like, killing the planet. Reduce your carbon footprint!" The cape has been replaced with a hemp t-shirt as, naturally, he no longer takes to the skies.

Action Man: holds a copy of the UN Charter and requires child to ensure that he has successfully carried a second resolution before the gun can become operative.

Oxymoronic
Definition of key Labour terms for beginners

Radical centre trans: if it stands still long enough, we'll privatise it!

Progressive consensus trans: my name is Neal Lawson. Please give me a job, Gordon!

Pragmatic trans I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Stakeholders trans what those nice sharp-suited management consultants told us we should call "constituents". Like, get with the twenty-first century, dude!

Listening exercise trans we wrote the conclusions to this consultation six months before it launched.

Plenty more, comrades, but my brain's gone dead. Any ideas?

UPDATES

Raft of Proposals trans Life-raft of proposals .

Step-change trans there's been bugger all done about this for so long that doing anything will appear to be a massive improvement. (Hat tip Red Tamarin)