[MisterMuncher]

Read James O'Brien on fixed odds betting terminals.

In 2018 it was agreed to limit the stakes on such things to £2 (rather than £100). The gambling industry agreed, but delayed the change. Now, I'm pointing no fingers, but Davies, McVey, Handcock...

Online bingo is essentially a FOBT for the house, with MSN messenger tech-level chat, usually filled with shills.

[AOB]

Well...I wince every time I hear how that woman says "Anusol". Which, being at the mecrcy of Talking Pictures' target demographic, is far too often.

I wonder if anyone has stood at the front of a long queue, had it in their basket, but the cashier notices a problem with the package and calls to a colleague "Sue! Can you pick up an Anusol for this lady please, this one's damaged." "Say that again" "Anusol for this lady please! Can you get us another!"

[mr angry manchester]

Well...I wince every time I hear how that woman says "Anusol". Which, being at the mecrcy of Talking Pictures' target demographic, is far too often.

I wonder if anyone has stood at the front of a long queue, had it in their basket, but the cashier notices a problem with the package and calls to a colleague "Sue! Can you pick up an Anusol for this lady please, this one's damaged." "Say that again" "Anusol for this lady please! Can you get us another!"

Like when Woody Allen was buying a mucky magazine in one of his filns

[Abernathy]

We might have had this already, but what the actual fuck is this thing with TV ads that have a fucking insipid, wafty, whiney, cover version, usually by some spotty adolescent twat that thinks he/she has talent, of a decent original song.

John Lewis is usually the worst culprit with its wanky Xmas commercial, but there's one running just now that's enough to give you the heebie jeebies. It's some bloke and presumably his female partner bimbling around in fucking jim-jams or something, accompanied by the shittest, wankiest, most insipid, whining, floaty, and unsuitable version of a great song you've ever been unlucky enough to hear. The song in question is The Proclaimers' rousing foot-stomper, (I wanna be) 500 Miles. But sung by what sounds like a fucking asthmatic seven year old with a throat infection. In a wanky, pseudo-posh accent from somewhere in England, not the original full-throated Edinburgh growl of the original.

And the product being advertised with this travesty? Viagra. Give me fucking strength.

[Cyclist]

Thank fuck I don't have a telly.

[Kreuzberger]

You lot get Viagra on the telly? We're cock-(sic)-a-hoop if we can get it on prescription!

[Boiler]

We might have had this already, but what the actual fuck is this thing with TV ads that have a fucking insipid, wafty, whiney, cover version, usually by some spotty adolescent twat that thinks he/she has talent, of a decent original song.

John Lewis is usually the worst culprit with its wanky Xmas commercial, but there's one running just now that's enough to give you the heebie jeebies. It's some bloke and presumably his female partner bimbling around in fucking jim-jams or something, accompanied by the shittest, wankiest, most insipid, whining, floaty, and unsuitable version of a great song you've ever been unlucky enough to hear. The song in question is The Proclaimers' rousing foot-stomper, (I wanna be) 500 Miles. But sung by what sounds like a fucking asthmatic seven year old with a throat infection. In a wanky, pseudo-posh accent from somewhere in England, not the original full-throated Edinburgh growl of the original.

And the product being advertised with this travesty? Viagra. Give me fucking strength.

Oh, so that's what it's for?! I heard a bit of the aforementioned whine on a programme I recorded and just hit fast forward...

[Abernathy]

You lot get Viagra on the telly? We're cock-(sic)-a-hoop if we can get it on prescription!

Yes, you can get it over the counter.

Green duffel coat, fourth peg from the left.

[Kreuzberger]

Yes, you can get it over the counter.

Gracious me! We have a tame pharmacist in CZ who slips us the 200 mg generics for a tenner a pop, but how good would it be to plan a debauched weekend with little more than the requisite phone call and a trip to Boots?

Don't know you're born, you Island Apes.

[mr angry manchester]

Some adverts are so shit that they put you off the product. I mean those funeral plan ones make me not want to be a corpse

[The Red Arrow]

Yay! Onwards to prosprous fulfilment and happy post covid uplands thanks to the glorious Coca Cola Corporation!

[AOB]

One of the visual lock screen ads on the Kindle is some tit asking Alexa just after he's woke up what his "flash briefing" is. Alexa would do well to reply "Can you repeat that in English. I don't have a 'City-boy' language translation."

"Flash briefing".

[Bones McCoy]

We might have had this already, but what the actual fuck is this thing with TV ads that have a fucking insipid, wafty, whiney, cover version, usually by some spotty adolescent twat that thinks he/she has talent, of a decent original song.

John Lewis is usually the worst culprit with its wanky Xmas commercial, but there's one running just now that's enough to give you the heebie jeebies. It's some bloke and presumably his female partner bimbling around in fucking jim-jams or something, accompanied by the shittest, wankiest, most insipid, whining, floaty, and unsuitable version of a great song you've ever been unlucky enough to hear. The song in question is The Proclaimers' rousing foot-stomper, (I wanna be) 500 Miles. But sung by what sounds like a fucking asthmatic seven year old with a throat infection. In a wanky, pseudo-posh accent from somewhere in England, not the original full-throated Edinburgh growl of the original.

And the product being advertised with this travesty? Viagra. Give me fucking strength.

This seems to be the popular genre now.
Wen I have Radio 5 live on in the afternoon they frequently invite a rising "artist".
It's almost always somebody like this: breathy "hardly there" vocals, and a very light touch on the guitar.
Then some fucking irritating story about how "I just dropped into the music during my gap year".

Imagine sharing a stage with these arseholes.
No wonder Leadbelly stabbed people.

[Cyclist]

This seems to be the popular genre now.
Wen I have Radio 5 live on in the afternoon they frequently invite a rising "artist".

BBC radio Leeds used to do this. I think they'd send someone to Wakefield to hang around in the square by the Cathedral Church to listen to the buskers, then bring the worst one back to the studio. Fucking awful, every one of them.

Still better than Ed Sheeran, mind.

[Boiler]

Still better than Ed Sheeran, mind.

Stuffing your fingers into the mains is preferable to Ed Sheeran.