Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Brent cross

I was flipping through a book about the Lady Chatterley trial last night, and chuckling over the prehistoric attitudes of the prosecution counsel. Everybody remembers Mervyn Griffith-Jones's line about whether it would be "a book that you would even wish your wife or your servants to read." But the moment when he gets to the naughty bits is high camp to the power of several:

"The word 'fuck' or 'fucking' occurs no less than thirty times. I have added them up, but I do not guarantee that I have added them all up. 'Cunt' fourteen times; 'balls' thirteen times; 'shit' and 'arse' six times apiece; 'cock' four times; 'piss' three times, and so on."

It's tempting to be smug about the whole business. Such prim and prissy attitudes are long gone, surely? But then comes a story from last month's Emmy Awards. Dame Helen Mirren, a woman who must be credited with guiding an entire generation of males through the traumas of adolescence, remarked upon accepting her bauble that she had almost fallen "arse over tit" on her way to the stage. This got a few laughs from an audience more used to female recipients bursting into tears. And the whole thing would have been forgotten, were it not for a person going by the frankly preposterous name of L Brent Bozell. Mr Bozell, L to his chums, is President of something called the Parents Television Council, which waves its fists and stamps its little feet at rudeness and badness on the telly. "It is utterly irresponsible and atrocious for NBC to air this vulgar language... when millions of children were in the viewing audience," said L, who has filed a complaint with the Federal Communications Commission.

Atrocious? I'll give you atrocious, mate. This is Helen Mirren you're talking about. This is a woman so adored that, when she was chosen to play the Queen, the only reservation expressed was whether the Queen was classy enough to be played by Helen. You diss her, you diss all of us.

People, I need your help here. This is my 200th post on this blog, and I need to do something special. The obvious thing would be to dismiss Mr L Brent Bozell as an arse and a tit, and forget about it. But I think he deserves something bigger and better and badder. First of all, he needs to be warned, in the most direct terms possible, that you don't mess with the Mirren. But he also needs to be made aware that "arse over tit" is but a bland, vanilla-flavour topping on the seething, brandy-and-dark-chocolate-and-morello-cherries pudding of British sweariness. I want you to offer up the worst, vilest, most heinous, irresponsible, atrocious insults that can be swabbed from the darkest recesses of your putrid minds. Apply them to Mr L Brent Bozell (is that an anagram, do you think?) and put them in the Comments section. Pass the word around to your friends, family and blogroll. If I get a decent number, I might just let L Brent know what we think.

To kick off, my own humble offering:

"L Brent Bozell is a perineal spunkmuppet."

Off you go. And remember... this is for Helen.

34 comments:

Wyndham said...

In the words of the Pythons that no doubt Mr Bozell likes so much: let's not call him anything, let's just ignore him.

Billy said...

Ah, Wyndham, you're no fun.

Can I kick off with donkey-felcher? Or is that taking things too far?

Tim Footman said...

Not at all, Billy. That's just a small sherry before dinner, as far as I'm concerned.

Richard LP said...

In extremis, I usually go for the old 'Exorcist' stand-by: "Your mother sucks cocks in hell, L. Brent Bozell."

I have attempted to say this in French and Japanese. Even rendered unidiomatically (the equivalent of 'Your mummy eats glands in the underworld'), it has never failed to have an effect.

Geoff said...

L Brent Bozzell
Is a prissy old fossil
He lives in the times of T Rex.

No, not the band
Shall we give him a hand?
And cut off his paltry wee sex?

Geoff said...

Helen's boobies look enormous on Bloglines. How do you do it?

Richard LP said...

The characters which Tim's software requires me to type in to ensure that I am an authentic commenter, and not an automated spam-spewing web-bot, are:

"ctedmyss"

... which isn't a bad description of L. Brent Bozell.

Spinsterella said...

"Marbhfháisc ort"

It's Irish for "I hope you die so violently that your bones have to be broken after rigor mortis has set in just to fit you in the coffin".

Och, we're a lovely friendly race of wee folk, aren't we?

Larry Teabag said...

Happy 200th Tim.

A most worthy campaign. Hope this helps.

realdoc said...

Mr. BOZELL YOU ARE AN UNADULTERATED WANKSTAIN ON THE UNDERCRACKERS OF A PUTRIFYING, SELF-REGARDING, FUNDAMENTALIST OUT OF TOUCH OLD FART

orange anubis said...

L Brent Bozell is a chunder-rimming cockfarmer.

ill man said...

L Brent Bozell is a collector of discarded colostomy bags. He is also ginger.

I fully expect him to sue me for the last comment..........

Tim Footman said...

Thank you, everyone. Do keep them oozing in, like a weeping sore on L Brent's bell-end.

Richard and Geoff raise a sound question, though: does "Bozzell" rhyme with "fossil" or "cocks in hell"? I find myself thinking of Boz Burrell (who played bass for Bad Company and King Crimson, as if a silly name wasn't its own punishment) but now I think of it, I don't know for sure how his name is pronounced either.

And Geoff: that's how God made them. Don't wonder, just enjoy.

But despite splendid profanity all round, and some excellent outreach work there by Brother Larry, pole position is currently held by Spinsterella, with her authentic banshee brutality. She's set the bar high - can anyone else jump it, I wonder?

corin said...

I'm torn between quoting South Park, calling him a "useless puddle of a homeless man's urine" and a creation of my own with vomit-drinking rat's tescticle, ridden with herpes.

John Bitches said...

I believe it was - oh, me! - who once wished upon David Blunkett leukemia for his bastard children, and cancer of his priapic cock. Perhaps we've found a more deserving case.

John Bitches said...

On reflection, a lot of this is sounding a bit too polite. Why the fuck doesn't Dozy Bozo shut his toddler-fellating gob, burn his dead mother's spunk-encrusted knickers instead of wearing them under that 1980s suit, and ask his long-suffering family to forgive him, instead of trying to tell the whole world what to think? Oh, and maybe if he took that orange out of his arse he wouldn't look quite so fucking ginger. Cunt.

Spinsterella said...

You know, that spelling doesn't look right (I googled it cos I couldn't remember and I only got a D at A-level anyhow).

Still, I'm pretty sure there's no f in the Irish alphabet (or v for that matter).

Sorry, this is really dull but it's troubling me.

Hannah said...

I'm with the Romans on this one: May the fleas of a thousand camels infest his armpits.

MJ said...

Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!

Emma said...

Mr Bozell is an irritant, a fleabite, a boil, a blip, a scab, a corn, a tick, he is the tinitus of our collective hearing, a pustule.

But sadly this probably all to no avail, as my ex-boyfriend used to say "you can´t educate pork". I´m sure Mr Bozell is "L.Brent" on being a sanctimonious wahnka for a long time to come.

Helga von porno said...

Since I am a pervert I'll go the other way, like the sun versus the wind. L, you handsome devil, I'd love to lick your arse hole while tickling yours balls, run my hands through your chest hair and kiss your eyes, strap on a dildo and arse fuck you dry til your own blood lubricates, then put out your eyes so your last and enduring vision is of my breasts glistening with your spunk.

Wyndham said...

By the way, is that a picture of HM The Queen or Helen Mirren - if it's The Queen I didn't know she smoked.

First Nations said...

I will merely let my stellar past examples of foul-mouthed invective stand in for me on this entry.

wotta doucheketeer.

couldn't help myself.

First Nations said...

...lordy, that looks paltry indeed following helga von porno's truly outstanding offering.
I mean, dayum.
DAYUM.

heather said...

The Glaswegian perspective:
Awa an bile yer fucking tumshie heid Bozell. Yur a wee clyping bampot.
Yer bum's oot a windae tellin Helen whit tae do. She's a classy burd. An yur jus jealous 'cus yuv got a face like a melted welly.
Git it up yie, yie right wing bawbag arsewipe.

The Scottish Perspective:
Cum do theanga ablaich gun fheum. Tha thu 'nad fhaighean, lan dhen cac. Thalla gu Taigh na Galla.
Tha an h-a-mhàin deoc cò bod nas-fheàrr na bò mhair bò bhràmair
Thalla 's cagainn bruis bad griomacach dinnsear tolla-thon.

Translation: Shut up you idiot. You're a cunt, Go to the House of the Bitch. (Go to hell )
The only person who sucks cock better than your mum is your girlfriend.
Away and chew a brush (Get lost) you balding ginger arsehole.

Molly Bloom said...

This is the ineluctable 200,
L Brent Bozzell lick my cheese,
I hope you eat gravy with hairs in,
And drink phlegm from an old man's wheeze.

Helen's week beats your year!

(Yeah...and I bet you love the outrageous rudeness of 'Ulysses' you sucker!)

John Bitches said...

Should have known they'd show us how it's done. Nevertheless, it is an honour to be so comprehensively humbled by the Glaswegians.

Betty said...

Being half Yugoslavian I ought to offer a few choice insults, because people from the former Yugoslavia curse on a regular basis, from what I can gather. Unfortunately, I can't speak the language.

Instead, a couple of expressions my dad translated:

"stick your exhaust pipe up your arse" (said by a terribly posh looking middle aged woman to a garage mechanic as we stopped to put petrol in our car on holiday in Croatia).

"go back into your mother's fanny" (said by Goran Ivanisevic during a tennis match. I say, John McEnroe wouldn't have got away with that, what?)

Tim Footman said...

All great stuff, especially the excursions to the Celtic fringes.

Betty: I must ask, do you recall to whom Goran's drollery was directed. I have a glorious image of Tim Henman giving one of his "I-may-be-from-Surrey-but-I'm-nails-I-am" stares in response, and then maybe a quick rubbish air punch thing.

Before Goran eviscerates him, of course.

Betty said...

Don't remember who Goran was playing, but it was so long ago that Tiger Tim hadn't even started his conquest to get beyond the Wimbledon quarter finals.

Probably some time in the 1950's, then.

Pongo aka small Boo said...

You smell.

You see that puddle in the road? That's your swimming pool, that is.

Tim Footman said...

Slight return to Betty and Goran... My Dad (aka the Playfair Sporting Annual in human form) reminded me that Gogo beat Henman in the 2001 Wimbledon semi, a match that took three damp days. The supposedly washed-up wildcard went on to beat Pat Rafter in the final.

Chaucer's Bitch said...

Am I too late to play? Whenever i read about conservatives' attempts at cencorship, i am reminded of how totally fucking ignorant they are of the concepts of language and the history of great literature. Does he approve of Shakespeare, i wonder? Probably yes, most cons do. They are educational purists, and only want their children to be exposed to the Great and Approved Classics. In that spirit, I offer the following tidbits. All the words are found in the works of The Bard.

Thou yeasty, poisonous, fen-sucked hedge-pig. Thou artless, beslubbering,* beef-witted, flap-mouthed, sheep-biting lout!

What Mr Bozell fails to understand is that swearing and profanity are not found in sounds and syllables, but in the intent with which something is uttered. None of the words above are considered obscene by modern standards, but are certainly a curse and an insult. Simply saying that you fell "arse over tit" is not spoken in that spirit, and therefore not offensive. What a giz-swilling fagbag. Someone must have pissed in his mother.

*great word, beslubbering. love it.

Anonymous said...

I love the British. My instant reaction was that L Brent Bozell must be American. Does this count as an epithet? So you have them there, too?