The Auld Git’s Blog

Russell Brand has proven that he is filthy of appearance - doesn’t he make you sick just to look at? - and also sick in the head, after making a hoax call.

This piece of rubbish thought it was funny to phone a crime hotline and make a false report while he was on in the middle of a so-called performance. During the call, he pretended to be a woman and claimed to have spotted a man who might be responsible for a series of assaults. The female operator on the hotline became suspicious when the laughter of the audience at the Royal and Derngate theatre became audible, and ended the call when Brand began to sing and invited her out to dinner.

The BBC desribed this waste of skin as a “star” in its report - there are more appropriate words that could be used, but even when justified, the Auld Git will not be provoked into using such language in his blog.

Suffice to say that the cult of celebrity has worked its magic once again, and Northamptonshire Police have failed to confirm that action will be taken against this pathetic apology for a comedian.

A former heroin addict, alcoholic, and already with numerous run-ins with the law, Brand has been arrested eleven times. During the time of his addiction, he was known for his debauchery.

He’s somehow conned everyone onto believing he’s clean, maybe, but his head’s still twisted if he think’s he’s funny when putting other’s in danger.

Sure, just one more little drink, just one more little sniff, just one more little shot - one day.

I doubt it.

Ann Robinson seems to have become a multi-millionaire for doing… er… um…

Sorry, I have no idea, all she does is make me jump for the remote to change the programme if I’m unfortunate to catch sight of her well stretched plastic surgery when it forces itself onto my screen when changing channels.

However, the good news is that she’s been handed a driving ban after finally succeeding in totting up enough penalty points.

This is long overdue, because all the other points she amassed on the way to that ban appear to have been for speeding too.

In typical TV celebrity vermin mode, the arrogant harridan attempted to lie to the court and the judge by claiming that when she committed the final offence that earned her that ban, she, according to her counsel, was disoriented and not aware of the 30 mph limit that applied in the area she was zipping through at 43 mph.

Only a TV celebrity that thinks that the sun shines out of her backside would be arrogant enough to thing that the court was so simple-minded that it would thing that a admitting NOT paying attention by a speeder with multiple convictions was a reason for mitigation.

UPDATE ANN - next time the surgeon is tightening up that facelift, even though he’s at the other end of your body from where your brains are, have him stick a brain cell or two in anyway, and you might realise that since you were already a convicted speeder, the worst thing you could do was admit you weren’t paying attention while you were driving. You should have been crawling along at 30 mph, or less, unless you were rock-solid certain that the limit where you were driving was higher.

Nicole Kidman’s father has revealed he suggested naming his granddaughter Sunday, having been inspired by artist Sidney Nolan’s muse Sunday Reed.

Kidman and husband country singer Keith Urban welcomed Sunday Rose Kidman Urban into the world on Monday in the US.

According to the news, Sunday is Kidman’s first biological child - what were the other? Vegetables?

I suppose the poor little creature is lucky that all she was lumbered with was “Sunday”, at least it’s not on the same scale of things that could be dragged up from the past like Zowie, or some of the other monstrosities that could only be given to celebrity vermin offspring, because if they had to go for a job interview (like normal people) then the potential emoloyer would take one look at the name on the application, consider they were being made a fool of, and discard the application without further consideration - the amusingly named offspring would either die of starvation because they could earn their keep, or have to go somewhere like the European Court of Human Rights, and have their parent found guilty of some form of cruelty, and be forced to pay for their keep for the rest of their life.

Some thug that plays football has been given a 4 month suspended jail sentence for assault. Coward Joey Barton repeatedly punched Ousmane Dabo while he was on the floor, and admitted assault occasioning actual bodily harm.

Barton punched former Manchester City colleague Ousmane Dabo up to five times, leaving him unconscious and covered in blood on the ground. He had claimed he acted in self-defence but changed his plea to guilty yesterday ahead of a scheduled trial in Manchester.  Witnesses were due to give evidence saying they saw Barton continue to punch his team-mate as he lay dazed on the ground. Barton’s a real brave guy to be around.

He’s currently inside for six months after carrying an attack while out on bail - does this guy know when to stop attacking people?

For this latest incident, which happened in May, he has also been ordered to carry out 200 hours community service and must pay £3,000 compensation to Dabo as well as footing the prosecution costs.

He’s a pretty good example of the wisdom of the “3 strikes and you’re out” campaign, and is the sort of vermin that we should be protected from. A loose cannon ready to go off at any time, and clearly not in control of himself. After the third time, he’s the type that should be locked up and have the key thrown away so we’re safe and police time isn’t being wasted.

After carelessly being caught lashing out violently towards an innocent fan in the audience at Glastonbury, it looks as if the cheque books were out in force, and a few handy witnesses have come out of the woodwork with suitably honourable stories that turn the evilness into a virtuous and wronged individual.

Not only do they manage to come up the guy that was supposedly whacked, he’s such a nice, big-hearted, all round good guy, that he’s “disappointed”, but has no intention of making a complaint (to the police).

Neither would anyone else with the chance of a cheque on the horizon.

I don’t know what the rules are for getting into Tussaud’s waxworks is these days, but I guess they still have the medical section with all the deformed foetuses, body and face casts from those disfigured by illness, and the various freaks that were recorded as wax models.

I suppose they must still have the medical horrors section, and I see that Amy Winehouse is set to be immortalised in wax by Tussaud’s.

They’ll have to do something about the warning on the entrance to the display area though, as the present one is just not adequate to protect anyone of a sensitive or nervous disposition that might wander in see her with that alien attached to her, head, and if the warning is not made more graphic they could end up in court being sued if anyone faints, or collapses and dies from the shock of seeing it.

Even when the drug-crazed Winehouse freak is trying to gain sympathy and con people into feeling sorry for her by having her family exaggerate tales of her suffering from the deadly lung disease emphysema, we still have to put up with her horrible appearance being shoved in our faces by the media. At least the truth slipped out in a reference to the London Clinic, where she is being treated for traces of emphysema. TRACES!!! Well, I’ve got traces of money in my pocket, but I still can’t afford to uby fuel and run a car any longer.

So seriously ill is Winehouse that she can still be ferried from her holiday home, eh, oh right, hospital bed and rehabilitation clinic, and is fit enough to perform (mime?) on stage at an outdoor concert - wow, she must be really really ill. And after all that illness, she’s still reported to have lashed out at a fan - lucky fan, imagine having to be treated for rabies, even nowadays.

Her twisted and distorted brain sees fit to decry fellow performers that appeared next her at Glastonbury, and managed to use the highly intelligent method of a string of four-letter words when referring to rapper Kanye West, but clearly thinks her jailbird husband deserves much better consideration, even though he’s in prison for causing grievous bodily harm and perverting the course of justice. A real nice guy, and just like his worse half.

Please Winehouse, get really ill in some way, not a pretend way, go to hospital, and keep out of our faces until you’re fixed, or put to sleep so spare suffering.

I’m always disappointed when Big Brother comes back on the small screen.

Not because it’s not as good as I hope. God knows, I didn’t understand why anyone would waste a second of their life watching this rubbish the first time it appeared, and how it’s still managing to attract people after the so-called revelation that it’s all fixed just to make it sensationalised “car-crash” TV only serves to demonstrate the mental deficiencies of those who sit glued to their sets watching it.

You can’t avoid it, and are guaranteed to see bits of the freak-show while your digital TV clunks through the channels, and the current batch is no exception to the description, looking and behaving like a collection of sub-normal weirdos that you’d want to cross the street to avoid for fear of your life. Or, as some might say, if you found them on fire in the street, you’d try and calm them down for moment to ask them of they could give you directions to the nearest public conveniences.

So, why would I be disappointed at the return of Big Brother?

Simple.

In the real Big Brother story, 1984, our hero (Winston Smith) described Big Brother as “A boot, eternally stamping on a face”, and the fact that’s not what we’re treated to being allowed to watch for the seemingly endless hours and days that Big Brother is televised is what’s disappointing.

The participants are ideal material, and watching them being stamped on for hours would be an absolutely wonderful use of the hours that are otherwise wasted on broadcasting the rubbish that appears to fill the hours of Big Brother.

The Aulgit choked over his corn flakes this morning, as he read the story of an evil bitch who was not jailed after jamming a glass into a man’s face three times.

Jenny Riding, 24, who is one of Scotland’s top female jockey’s and came second in the National Hunt amateur ladies championship (handy name she has for the business, wonder if its her own? ). might have lost control for a moment, and deserved the benefit of the doubt if she’d been provoked in some way, and unthinkingly struck out with the glass once.

However, that option should have been deleted when she decided that once was not enough, and while outside a pub in Crawford Street, Kelso, she rammed the glass into the man’s face for a second time.

And when she continued the attack by thrusting the glass into his for a third time, leaving him bruised and with a 3 cm wound requiring six stitches, the court should have locked her up without a second thought. That sort of attack is not a mistake, but a vicious and deliberate attempt to inflict serious pain and injury to the victim.

Instead, she trots out her trainers Peter Monteith and Dick Allan who said she was keen to get her life back on track and resume her promising career in the saddle.

I’ll bet she was!

Who wouldn’t rather play “little girl lost” and sit all miserable and doe-eyed in court, trump up some references from people with a vested interest in keeping her out of jail, and get a mere 200 hours of community services instead of a year inside for an attack that could have left someone permanently disfigure and blind for the rest of their life.

No wonder there’s violence on the street if this is best we can do when actually get our hands on one of the perpetrators - worse luck it happened to be one of the “horsey set” and was able to organise a “Get out of jail free card“.

And she has a history too, convicted of assaulting the man’s sister in 2002:

Jenny Riding, 24, of Allars Crescent, Hawick, struck Stewart McEwan three times in the face with the glass after he swore and called her a “smackhead”.

She admitted a charge of assault to severe injury outside the Red Lion pub in Kelso on 7 July last year.

Jedburgh Sheriff Court was told her career as a national hunt jockey was in the balance. Sentence was deferred. David Taylor, representing Riding, told Sheriff Ian Duguid that her future in the sport was in doubt. “She is a jockey - which is not a joke given her surname,” he said. “However, her future employment is pending the outcome of this case.”

The court was told Riding had a previous conviction from 2002 when she assaulted Mr McEwan’s sister by cutting her hair.

Juliet Petrusev, prosecuting, said that since then there had always been animosity between Riding and the McEwan family. She said that on the evening of the attack Mr McEwan had gone outside the pub and Riding shouted at him and told him he was a “dead man”. He had gone back inside but when he went out for a cigarette later she had started shouting and insulting him again.

“Mr McEwan swore back at her and shouted at her she was a smackhead,” said Ms Petrusev. “The accused had a glass in her hand which was either a tall spirit glass or a pint glass and she hit Mr McEwan on the face with the glass. He recoiled back and she struck him a further two times to the left hand side of the face.” The court heard that with the last strike the glass had broken, cutting Mr McEwan, and he had fallen to the ground. He required six stitches to a wound behind his left ear.

David Taylor, defending, said Riding had tried to apologise over the incident involving Mr McEwan’s sister but “those efforts had been rebuffed”. He pointed out both parties had been out drinking for some time and a significant amount of alcohol had been taken and both had been abusive.

Riding’s not guilty plea to a second charge of recklessly throwing a glass into the Red Lion and injuring a man was accepted by the Crown.

While peasants like you and me would end up in court, and have the keys thrown away automatically as we were carted off if we were found on a 450 mile trip with almost four times the legal alcohol limit in our bodies, the aristocracy reckons that they should be classed as celebrities, and allowed to swan off to a holiday camp instead- even though they already had a six month ban for speeding offences, and that’s a series of speeding offences, not just one. As well as being disqualified, that means driving uninsured as well, so tough luck for anyone hit or killed.

Poor little Katrina Bovill, a 36 year old artist and sister-in-law to the Earl of Hopetoun, was stopped by police on the A9, and despite the string of offences, and existing sentences, was considered for jail, but this was deferred for six months - maybe the presence of her father, Major Bristow Bovill, was a reminder to the judge to keep him in his place.

Everyone will be glad to know the poor little girlie is off to start a residential five-week alcohol detox programme in the Surrey clinic of Life Works to dry her out, and probably let her start all over again.

As has always been said, its’s not what you know, but who you know.

In a decision that can only have you wondering how many people were paid off, or funny handshakes were exchanges, a piece of rubbish called Patrick Kielty has conned his way out of a driving ban.

While ordinary folk like you and me would be banned automatically for exceeding 100 mph, with no question of an appeal, this waster gets off with the equivalent (for someone on a TV presenter salary) of a pat on the back and a hint not to get caught doing that again in the near future.

The scum doesn’t even have the grace or good sense to keep quiet and skulk away, but has to shove two fingers up to the rest of us by joking about it, and dismissing he result.

“I think it was a fair result,” he said.

“To be honest with you, with the price of petrol at the moment, I was sort of half looking forward to a ban.”

How can it be a fair result if the little rat wasn’t banned!

Apparently Sheriff Thomas Millar said he took into account the impact of a ban on the presenter’s charity work - perhaps while exchanging funny handshakes with the evil liitle man’s lawyer.

His lawyer, Gerald Tierney, said Kielty normally flew and was therefore unfamiliar with the road.

“Having had a busy day working in London, his concentration slipped,” he told the court.

“An error of judgment occurred.”

Ordinary, little, “unimportant” people have the same, and greater problems, and depend on their ability to drive to make a living, not just swan around pretending to work. When they do the same, they lose their licence, their jobs, their livelihoods, even their families.

But…

That’s ok, because they don’t have Mr Kielty’s involvement in “high-profile” charity events and smaller fundraisers such as golf tournaments.

The irony of it all - Kielty should be sent here

Hundreds of speeding tickets totalling more than £18,000 in fines are to be issued for motoring offences during the weekend of a Highlands music festival.

Mobile camera units on routes to Rock Ness, near Inverness, detected about 300 drivers over the speed limit.

Last year, 500 motorists were caught, prompting a warning from the festival’s organisers for revellers travelling by road to drive with care.

Those detected could have three points on their licence and be fined £60.

Postcards issued

The Northern Safety Camera Partnership, which operates speed cameras in the Highlands, said the figures represented a “significant improvement” on last year.

Postcards issued with every festival ticket included directions to the site as well as information about the speed limits for different road types.

Insp John Smith, of the partnership, said: “Our job is not about catching speeders, it’s about reminding drivers of the dangers of inappropriate speed and the risks that they pose both to themselves and to other road users.”