So what I said in January, was a lie. I said I’d write loads this year, but I didn’t. So what? Whayagonnadowabowdit? I was very busy and did some other things instead. Like:
- I touched myself a good few times.
- I ate some Bombay Mix off my bare chest using just my tongue.
- I plopped in my panties whilst in a pub. Smelly bum bum!
- I shagged.
- Oh Lord did I shag.
- I failed HARD in front of some very beautiful women.
- But then I rectified the situation by shagging some other very beautiful women I mean I touched myself a good few times.
- I bought a Scotch egg, cut it in half, took the egg out, put some grated cheese in the hole, then put the egg back in and ate it. Gordon Ramsay? More like WhoreDong Ram-Lay or something.
- I frantically pushed myself towards the back of the bath in a frenzied panic to get away from the sperm I’d just released into the water.
- I watched a HELL OF A LOT of 18s.
It’s probably the last one you’re most interested in (maybe the third one too), so that’s what this “article” will be about. It’s been a great year in 18-rated cinema, so sit back, relax, pour some Bombay Mix on your chest and read the goddamn fuck out of this shit:
In my book of obscure and annoying vernacular, a green room is normally merely one I’ve just sneezed in, but in this case, it refers to the room in which bands hang out before they have to come on stage. You know, like the one where all the celebrities used to have “banter” in on The Jonathan Ross Show. Only, on the Jonathan Ross show, there isn’t a screeching maniac outside trying to burst through the door – unless Davina MccAll’s on it or something.
In Green Room, there most definitely is – there’s a bunch of them. And they’re Nazis. And what they’re trying to do is kill all the members of a small-time punk band because they witnessed a murder. What follows is a horror/thriller as taut as my banjo string (was), chock-full of more tension than my arsehole (was) and as chill-you-to-the-bone petrifying as my left nipple (is). It’s violent, exciting and got daym terrifying, if I’m honest. And as I have already mentioned, I am not often honest. But I actually am being honest now. Honest.