Scott, To Be Certain


Sunday, November 16, 2008

The Inherent Filth of Gwen Stefani

With style, class, porcelain features, two children and a stable, 13 year relationship, Gwen Stefani is outwardly the picture of wholesomeness.

But inwardly, the voices of her inner slut will never be silenced.

Irrefutable evidence for this utterly un-outlandish statement can be found in the lyrics to her song "Bubble Pop Electric", appearing on her 2004 debut album (just two years after her marriage, the saucy minx).

The song is a tour-de-force of filth and innuendo, as she gets dealt a thorough servicing at the hands (among other things) of Johnny 3000 from out of Outkast.

Come on Johnny, when you gonna get here?

Employing that famous literary device "foreshadowing", Gwen hints at some later disappointment at a lack of urgency on Johnny's "part".

Alright just hold your pretty horses, I'll be there in a minute, you just get yourself dolled up toots and pick a place, you just pick a place

Johnny is presenting Gwen with her choice of orifice.

Um, Johnny?

Gwen is addressing Johnny.

Yeah, Gwenny-Gwen-Gwen?

Johnny is stuttering.

You might wanna hurry, because tonight is THE night

Johnny is finally going to get a good look at the back of Gwen's head.

I'm empty, I need fulfilling, yes I do love

Ever the fan of plays on words, Gwen pretends she's seeking fulfillment when in fact she just wants to be full-filled.

To the ceiling when I do love/I get this feeling when I'm in love

Well this is simply lazy-arsed songwriting from Gwen, hoping we won't mind that she's used the same word three times in the place of a rhyme. EPIC YAWN.

I'm restless/Can't you see I try my bestest/To be a good girl because it's just us/So take me now and do me justice

EPIC RECOVERY. The just us/justice couplet is sheer genius, and likely infers a bit of wrong-side-of-the-law role play between the horned up pop stars.

I'm waiting patiently, anticipating your arrival

To arrive is 'to make one's presence known'; also, 'to come'. Both of these definitions are likely to apply here.

And I'm hating that it takes so long to get to my house

Turns out Gwen ain't no two-minute tyrant either.

Tonight I'm gonna give you all my love in the backseat

A staggeringly unsubtle euphemism from Gwen.

Bubble, Pop, Electric

OMG, so Gwen was a virgin? That shit is bananas! (Also OMG - a vibrator?)

Gonna speed it down and slow it up in the backseat

OK then.

Uh-oh, in the backseat

Acting surprised won't fool anyone Gwen.

OK now, I understand he's on his way now/But jeez Louise I mean today now!/I can't wait I wanna play now

So Gwen is now officially and irretrievably gagging for it.

I'm antsy/Bubble pop electric pansies

Oh I get it you've been 'deflowered'. Nice one.

My sweet tooth, I want your candy

No explanation required.

The Queen of England would say it 'randy'

I'm not sure that she would.

I'm itchy/I wish you'd come and scratch me

Yet more impatience from Gwen.

Tonight I'm falling won't you catch me/Swoop on by so you can snatch me

The subtle imagery just keeps on, um, coming.

The need to be satisfied/Come pick me up I wanna ride

A quick change of positions then.

Hurry, hurry, come to me/Drive in movie/Drive in move me/Drive in to me

Well this is all very ambiguous isn't it.

THE, er, END

"Her name is Gwen and she's here to flash her vagina." - Margaret Cho

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Art Imitating Life

How is this news:

Well, maybe not the first.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Outgoing Stepford Wife

Friday, November 07, 2008

Justine Henin's Tragic Legacy

The election of Barack Obama has criminally overshadowed the fact that this stunning collection of gorgeous athletes is currently 'facing off' at the end-of-year WTA championships.

By happy and convenient coincidence, they are standing in order of their current rankings. From left to right they are Jelena Jankovic, Dinara Safina, Serena Williams, Ana Ivanovic, Elena Dementieva, Svetlana Kuznetsova, Venus Williams and Vera Zvonareva.

I could not resist blogging this, especially since S2BC has a particular fetish for the glamorous and elegance of women's tennis. A few discerning observations:

1. Could Svetlana's head be ANY MORE MASSIVE.
2. Vera has completely ruined the hand-on-thigh symmetry.
3. Serena's swashbuckling look raises suspicions she'll be playing with a sword.
4. It's great to see Yannick Noah available at short notice to fill in for Venus. It might also be that guy from Milli Vanilli (the not-dead one).
5. Everyone's dressed for coffee in Chapel Street except for Dinara, who looks on her way to a piano recital. For basketballers.
6. There is an average of 2 occurrences of the letter 'a' in each of their names.
7. The letter 'v' appears on average more than twice each. Nice one Vera.
8. It's impossible to look at Jelena Jankovic, the worst number 1 in history, without envisaging this:

But most of all, this is really the most astoundingly shit group of supposed year-end champions EVER. Surely we can mount a class action against Justine Henin for reckless abandonment?

Friday, March 07, 2008

Martina Apparently Still Likes To Hit It

As we all know, Martina Hingis departed the sport of tennis in a flourish of ignominy late last year when it was revealed that she was rather partial to hitting the lines off-court as well as on.

"That 'snow' is taunting me so I refuse to view it"

But after just a matter of a few months it seems she's very quickly recovered from her forced retirement (by virtue of a two-year ban for a positive cocaine test), if this news report is anything to go by.

No word of a lie: Martina is returning to competitive tennis. In Liverpool!

"I'm so excited I fashioned a shirt from my mum's old purse"

Martina is scheduled to play the Liverpool invitational tournament in preparation for Wimbledon this year, because the tournament isn't subject to her tour ban.

The corker in this whole situation is that she's so pumped for her return to match play that she's manufactured a rather hilarious PR spin to the event.

Please fill in the missing word to this legitimate Martina quote.

I am very much looking forward to playing the event and to visit all the things that have made Liverpool the European capital of C_ _ _ _ _ _ ."

Believe it or not, but the missing word is CULTURE.


Martina, any hope you ever had of exonerating yourself from the dreadful slur now inextricably associated with your name is lost forever following this claim which can only be explained by reference to drugs.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

Céline Dion: Not Adept At Swallowing

There have been many excellent comedy videos doing the YouTube circuit of late, each employing a clever brand of scripted humour to send half the world into hospital with laughter-induced injuries.

The suite of genius Brenda Dickson parodies, the inspired Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel videos (satirising their imaginary fuck-buddy relationships with Matt Damon and Ben Affleck respectively), and Mariah Carey's ridiculous new cip for her Samantha Fox/Tina Arena mash-up single "Touch My Body" (in which she appears now to own the hacienda from which she so expertly escaped in 1997's literally and figuratively seminal "Honey") are all fine examples of deliberate hilarity.

Yet, however side-splitting, these intelligent, carefully staged comic moments are no match for the less common but doubly impressive brand of unintentional comedy.

To this end, I bring to you below the sheer genius of Céline Dion.

The destitute Canadian songstress donated $US1m to the Hurricane Katrina relief effort in 2005 during a televised interview with Larry King. What was notable about the interview was that Céline, who experiences human emotion more acutely than anyone in history, virtually collapses from sadness during discussions about the devastation in the affected areas.

What could possibly be funny about this, you ask? Certainly, it is now very clear that the government response to the disaster was indeed woefully inadequate, and the level of human suffering was indeed unacceptable.

But Céline's particular phraseology, her endearing ESL English, and the uniqueness of a megastar imploding on camera make this indescribably memorable viewing. Please note that the video below has been innovatively doctored in certain obvious respects by one enthusiastic viewer, but the interview is otherwise entirely genuine.


Since there is, in fact, such a multitude of wonderful moments in this video, I have constructed the following survey. Please participate and select your favourites (you can choose more than one).

To witness the extent to which this video has inspired the world, please also view this mini-gem:

Saturday, March 01, 2008

Suicide And Other Pursuits Preferable To Psychometric Testing

In this complex tableau we call 'life', we are every so often struck by moments of sheer clarity, moments so beautiful in their simplicity and directness that for a brief time the rest of the world falls away.

Yesterday, I had one of those moments. It was during a psychometric numerical reasoning test, when I was overcome by a virtually irresistible compulsion to drive the two pencils before me straight through my eyeballs with as much brute force and speed as possible.

OMG where can I find one of these

For those of you who are unaware, S2BC is to the fullest extent practicable a numbers-free zone - with the exception, of course, of the S2BC countdowns, the most recent of which (the Idol Top 20) is to be completed very shortly. ("We're not remotely convinced by that" - The World)

This is because I am in every imaginable way the most innumerate thinker on the planet. I can calculate sums reasonably swiftly and accurately, but anything beyond that is legitimately nausea-inducing for me. The Financial Review makes me nervous and queasy, Excel spreadsheets make me want to throw up and the moment the business report begins during the nightly news is precisely when I mentally retreat into my own private world of carousels and circus music.

Now I don't know what I was expecting before commencing this psychometric testing. Realistically, despite having some cursory prior experience with such testing, I believe I was clinging against my better judgment to the hope that the test might feature my preferred type of intellectual questioning along the lines of 'identify the next number in this sequence' or 'which of these shapes does not belong'.

Instead, there was something like this:

Followed by question:

"In year 3, half of the value of the gain made in Fund A was derived from monies that had been transferred from Fund C. What would the value of Fund C have been if some ugly but enormously endowed woman began breastfeeding her puppy while riding a unicycle?"

Or something similar. That is a rough approximation of my capacity for concentration when presented with numerical data: I immediately escape into a world of amusing unlikelihoods, while the numbers themselves dance around the page, laughing hysterically and sardonically at my malaise.

As an amusing post-script, and speaking of unlikelihoods: I passed the test. I didn't scoop my eyes out with a pencil, and the relevant prospective employer generously "invited" me for a further interview. But by this time I had tired of them and their stupid fucking test so I declined.

I am now miraculously employed by an institution that saw fit not to include psychometric testing in its recruitment. In future, I will not partake in any such form of testing, unless it contains something like this:

Now that's a test we'd all enjoy, is it not?