Sh*t That Needs To Stop – Power Rangers

Thursday morning. I drag myself from my bed, the same bed upon which I collapsed just three short hours ago. I pour myself a cup of cold water, douse my face with coffee and i’m ready for the day as soon as the screams subside.

Entering the living room, I find the Child Units ready for school, uniform on, bags packed, angelic smiles on their teeny weeny faces. Obviously, something is wrong.

CHILD UNIT 2: “Daddy! We got up and got ourselves all ready and can we watch Power Rangers pleeeeeeeeasssseeee”

I probe the recesses of my mouth but alas, I removed the cyanide pill due to an unfortunate tendency toward nocturnal tooth grinding, so with a sigh, I hand the remote control to the youngest of the short people and bury my head in the cushions.

The ham festival of choice for today is Power Rangers RPM, one of approximately six billion assorted incarnations of the lycra clad heroes. In RPM, the Rangers have tyres wrapped around their extremeties, drive a Winnebago and do battle with Venjix, a computer virus which inexplicably chooses to inhabit the bodies of sub-par martial artists wearing eighty pounds of poorly moulded plastic.

I hate to resort to an “all this used to be fields” moment, but in the heady days of my youth, I loved the Power Rangers. I remember barrelling about the school playground, screaming “KEE-YAH!” and kicking my friends in the cock. Good times.

That was twenty years ago. Cycle forward to the present day and we’ve had twenty years of the same shit. Every series, of which there’s been one per year, boils down to pretty much this:


2) Powerful force and/or being gathers a group of community theatre rejects and hand models, imbuing them with the power to kick things and go “HEEEEYAI!”, along with figure hugging suits and impractical, plastic headwear.

3) As series progresses, Rangers discover new weapons, abilities, zords and allies in an obvious bid to introduce new merchandise

4) Rangers ultimately defeat the biggest, baddest wossname and are then cast back into the street, like so much human refuse

5) New series announced

Every. Bloody. Year. “Power Rangers: SSDD”.

So, here’s what I propose. Either sack it all in and call it a day, or give it a shake up. How about a gritty new take on the series, directed by Christopher Nolan? Or do it in 3D? EVERYONE loves 3D, huh?

Maybe not. Let’s face it, we’re in for another twenty years of the same old shite. Wonder which area of history or general interest they’ll bastardise next? They’ve done dinosaurs, cars, faster cars, emergency services, samurai, pirates, jungle animals, all sorts of old bollocks. Still leaves a few possibilities though…


Four young friends harness the power of Victorian London and become the Power Rangers, complete with grubby, steam powered zords and ill-fitting clothing in assorted shades of brown. They last about three episodes and then either starve to death on the streets or choke out their last, stuck up a chimney.


Five ordinary teenagers are forever changed when Billy Ray Cyrus enters their lives. Now they must balance their day to day worries with their new found fame as rock stars, plus occasionally defeating big rubber ugly buggers. Featuring the all new Montanazord with Wrecking Ball Attack mode and realistic Dissapointment-To-Father actions.


A group of disillusioned teens must join forces to protect the world from something-or-other, who cares man it’s all just too hard.
Featuring Kimmy, the Black Ranger, Michael, the Black Ranger, Edward, the Black Ranger, Lisa, the Black Ranger and Geoff, the Black Ranger.
Soundtrack by The Cure.


Four disgruntled Vietnam veterans are pulled together by a secret government organisation and become the Power Rangers! Piloting mighty zords, commanding awesome destructive power and occasionally lapsing into bloody, violent flashbacks, friend and foe alike are in for a world of hurt.


Three disenchanted youths gather in their basement hideout and dole out online justice against film directors, actors, popular musicians and other easy targets. This leads into a second season featuring the trio in their ultimate forms, titled POWER RANGERS: SOCIAL JUSTICE WARRIORS.
Sponsored by Cheetos and Red Bull.


Six friends struggle with life, love and constant threat of invasion from alien forces in this light hearted sitcom, set in New York, circa 1998.


A pale, stammering imbecile meets a group of pale, beautiful vampires in a constantly drizzly shithole town somewhere in Bullshitsville, America. Together, they become the Power Rangers and ol’ mumbly-stumbly-bollocks inexplicably becomes the most powerful of them all. Then they all have sex and oh-em-gee it’s so hot and the writer cums.

Al Vimh Bat Cave key hanger
Get your very own Al Vimh Bat Cave key hanger.

Sh*t That Needs To Stop – Pouting

People of the internet, I have been far too lenient. I have allowed you all to go about your merry little lives without incident, but no longer. Day by day, many of you do things, terrible things, which must be stopped if we…by which I mean, I…am to lead a happy life. Today we’ll deal with…

Pouty Pillock Selfies

Personally i’d like to suggest that selfie be removed from the dictionary and that those who use the word be removed from the gene pool, but I think it’s too far gone for that, so i’ll settle for removing certain types of irritating, attention seeking arsewipes from the great broiling pot of “look-at-me” self lovin’. Today’s chief offender, the “pouting pillock”.

Here’s how to take a selfie.
a) Point camera at self
b) Smile (or perhaps scowl, dependent on mood)
c) Take photograph
d) Post online
e) Hate yourself

You’ll notice that b) reads smile or scowl, not…
b) Pucker up as though you’re trying to suck a house empty through the keyhole

Look at the state of me. Like a promiscuous bear.
Look at the state of me. Like a promiscuous bear.


What is that ridiculous face all about, anyway? Years of indoctrination via the medium of school photographers and asshole relatives at lacklustre, drizzly barbecues should have taught you by now, you say cheese and let the light behind your eyes die. THAT’S how you take a photograph, with a smile at the mouth and a touch of madness in the gaze, not a look that says “HELP ME I WAS FROZEN WHILE WHISTLING!”

I will accept photographs which feature pouting under the following conditions only:

1) You are a model of some kind. They also look stupid when they pout but at least they are being paid for it.

2) You live on a diet of nothing but lemons

3) You are one of those toys which you lick and then stick to a window

4) You’re a fish

Anything else and i’ll slap the pucker right off your mug.

Speaking of mug, shut up and buy one of these.
Just shut up and fill this with coffee