The white man is trying to keep me down.

In the words of the indomitable spirit that was Wesley Willis: "KILL WHITEY"

Minor Threat knew something about all this fucking shit - 'guilty of being white' as it went. Perhaps, in Britain, we should all start presenting with terrible gastrointestinal problems and blame it on the fucking Indians for making food that isn't quite as bland as some shit like Steak & Kidney Pie.

Whose kidneys? Why don't we try offing the homeless and using their kidneys? The rest of the carcass, we'll leave in a canal as if it were Cairo. We can just be like all these fucking assholes who kill a couple of dozen Minks, take the precious, precious pelts, and just fucking throw the rest away; as soon as they start peddling Mink Link Sausages at M&S or Waitrose, I will finally shut up about that one.

Really fab thing about minority groups is that, when they get a chip on their shoulder, they fucking cascade absolute horse shite across the rest of the world until some fucking sucker who has an "alternative media" website prints their crap up and tells his fellows for shame.

You're another one who can fuck off, Mikey Moore. Maybe it was a white man who turned you down for whatever bullshit you needed money for, from whatever capitalist pigdog financier you might run with... but it's no more written into the Caucasoid genome to not give your fat arse money than it is written into the Negroid genome to steal your dad's hubcaps!

Wil Wheaton has the exact same text-message tone on his cell phone that I do!

Well... podcasts come, and podcasts go. Thing about podcasts: they're all fucking lame. With the possible exception of none.

However, whilst listening to a more-recent episode of 'Memories of the Futurecast' it had become apparent that WWdN is becoming lamer and more erudite as the weeks roll by. By this I mean "pardon me, but do you have any Splayed Poonan" ... as to what the fuck I am talking about, I shall keep you informed.

Wilbur has become even more trivial and brilliant as the weekly doldrums have passed. I'm thinking a bad episode of Seinfeld, or a really good episode of King of the Hill. I mean, really, how could one man possibly prattle out so much on so few appearances on a television show only imbecile-ne'erdowells, such as myself, actually remember, to this extent?

THANK YOU, WIL WHEATON!

How does YOUR ass look in a pair of Fenchurch jeans, fatty?

It pays to be a borderline personality when the rest of the world is crying out for CK socks and a quarter pounder of any description.

At least, at that point, you're registered with some government agency as being "emotionally unstable" rather than being just cerebrally/culturally fickle. I think it's really great when people tell themselves shit like 'wow, that's really, really cool - I think it'll make me just like Josh Hartnett... so I'd better open my fucking wallet'.

Ever noticed how people really do think Harrison Ford is a genius? Get off my plane! It's about as witty as anything Arnie has come out with, to date... however, he doesn't have the silly Austrian lisp, so he's not going to be paid as much for it.

In the end, I think we should just encourage the Americans to nuke Iran and/or China! Most seem satisfied to let the Yanks fumble their way through a parliamentary threnody. Vive le counter-interrogative parlance!