Can anyone beat my black, homeless dwarf for a minority super-niche? I found him outside Elephant & Castle station, and because I’m such an amazing minority myself - it ain’t easy bein’ this pretty, you jealous bitches - I knew we’d get along. We talked about how much money the council threw at us, the arts funding we’d applied for, and the dozens of other brazen and limitless demands we make on the average hard-working taxpayer.

Then we laughed, and laughed, and laughed. A stupid member of the silent majority stopped, and asked us what was so funny. We just looked at each other and started laughing again!

MINORITY WATCH
Hi. I’m Richard Littlejohn. I’m not racist, but I do think there should be stricter controls on the foreign things I’m forced to see. Have you found a multiple-minority who might be making your house less desirable to a heroic WW2 veteran? Perhaps an Indian family actually tried to buy your house, in an attempt to disgust you into leaving Britain once and for all, like I did.

Tell me your shocking stories of minorities just walking around like they own the place, and I’ll GO FUCKING MENTAL AND LEAVE THE COUNTRY AGAIN. Where will I end up? That depends on YOU!

FACE 1: YES, I’M JIMMY CARR
You’ve got me, governor - I’m the Jimmy Carr you’re looking for. How did you find me on top of this vibrating neon podium? Sorry I couldn’t bring myself to reduce the word “governor” to “guv’nor”, by the way. The thing is, I’m not a moronic commoner who drops ecstacy and syllables like I’ve got nothing to live for. Lest the world forgets, I’m award-winning. You don’t get put up for the Loaded Lafta Award in 2004 unless you’re on the top of your fucking game, OK?

FACE 2: DO SHUT UP
As I made clear with my previous face, I am Jimmy Carr. With Jimmy Carr - me - certain things are implied. Firstly, I require Egyptian linens - this is not relevant to you, as the closest you’ve probably got to Egypt is watching Carry On Cleopatra and scoffing a Choc Ice with your feet on a pouffe. Keep paying attention, however, because my point will be made soon enough. The second thing Jimmy Carr expects is for obscene strumpets like yourself to remain silent while he presses him palms flat against her bosom. Now, do you see why I’m upset by your vile, uneducated caterwauling?

FACE 3: THE APOLOGY
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Here, take my handkerchief. Never let it be said that Jimmy Carr - the very same Jimmy Carr that is me - is anything other than a gentleman. Yes, it’s silk. It glides over the skin, like nothing you’ve felt before. I’m sorry if it appears that I’m staring at your bust, it’s an optical illusion that you really must learn to ignore. Please sit still, ssh, don’t move - I wouldn’t want to be forced so early to sever the so-brittle pipe that is your spine.

FACE 4: IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME
Give us a kiss. Just a little one. A little peck on the cheek. Go on, just give us a brisk tickle on me chops with yer mucky gob, and I’ll be on me way. This is how you talk, isn’t it? I’ll not make a mess - when me dick goes bang all ‘at comes out is a lit’l bit o’ chimney soot, and I’ll keep that in me pants as a memento of this auspicious day. You see, I’m all things to all people - an affliction, a blessing, a lover, a god - I have a different name in every country, and the stories of my adventures differ only in the details. There are countries where my comedy must be spoken in hushed tones, because to laugh is a crime - and where you hear the oppressed peoples of these countries whispering, you can be assured that they are whispering - “Jimmy Carr”.

FACE 5: I’M VERY CLOSE NOW
Hello. I’m the same Jimmy Carr as before, but I’m closer to you, now. If you look closely - and I’ve heard that at times of extreme danger, the human brain is capable of picking out fine, irrelevant details just like this one - you might notice that my tear ducts are loose. You have just joined an exclusive group of people who know this about my tear ducts; soon you’ll be just as dead as they are. Please, don’t appeal to my sense of humanity - asking me to consider your feelings is like asking a rainbow to land on a turd.

FACE 6: CONCERN
Someone’s at the door. You stay there. I’ll be back in a minute. And don’t change the channel, I’m watching that. I know I haven’t been actually looking at it, but I like it being on. My favourite telly program is the one where people talk about what is in the boxes. I often disagree with them about what is in the boxes, and when it turns out we were both wrong, I’m never sure if I’ve won the argument. Sometimes life just fails to have a satisfactory sense of resolution. That’s pretty much why I, Jimmy Carr, love killing people, and need to be stopped by an angry mob.

FACE 7: UH-OH!
Oh, nuts! It’s my mother. If she finds me with a woman, she’ll go mental! OK - let’s get our stories straight. You’re Deborah, you work in a high street travel agent. You feel your life exists solely to give other people the experiences you so sorely desire, and you’re thankful to me for giving you an insight into how wonderful life can be. Your favourite joke of mine is “throwing acid is wrong, in some peoples’ eyes”, even though you weren’t aware of it being a common form of revenge attack amongst spurned lovers in India, like I was when I wrote the joke. This is just one of the reasons I’m better than you, but there’s no time to go into all the others right now.

FACE 8: OH GOD SHE’S FALLEN OVER
You don’t know first aid, do you? She caught a whiff of you and fainted dead away. Not from that angle, she’s got a colostomy bag. No, it’s not hers, she found it on the pavement. She’s got it into her head that one day she’ll meet the owner, and it’ll be the beginning of this incredible romance. I’ve tried telling her he’d have got a new one by now, and that the last thing he’ll want is to have the faeces of yesteryear sloshed into his lap by a randy widow. But you honestly can’t tell her. I’m sorry, I can’t keep calling you Bitch, not in front of mother. What’s your name?

What will happen next? There’s eight more pictures of Jimmy Carr to go - will he find love, or just add another luckless lady to the massive pile of murder victims in the scullery?

Pictures taken from jimmycarr.net - probably the finest Jimmy Carr Serial Murderer Fansite on the internet.

Although this conversation isn’t a true Tale of the Smear, it’s amazing how an accusation levelled at my work colleague and superior, Will Porter, that his “bum smelled of bum” and that he “pisses on bums” could lead, eventually, to a small story about his dad walking in on him while he did a shit near a nurse, while talking to someone on the phone. If it truly is the case that these stories are this easy to stumble upon, then I’m going to start taking my Dictaphone out with me more often…

Log says:
HEY WILL YOUR BUM SMELL OF BUM
YOU PISS ON BUMS
STOP TYPING

Will says:
I have only ever pissed on one bum.

Log says:
Was it a special bum

Will says:
And that was after a misunderstanding.

Log says:
Were you in love with the bum you pissed on Will

Will says:
No.

Log says:
:(

Will says:
It’s a long story.

Log says:
Let’s talk about it for three hours

Will says:
Well…

Log says:
You’ve piqued my interest something rotten
I can’t conceive how a simple misunderstanding could end up with you pissing on a bum

Will says:
What if I told you I’d never pissed on a bum, and was just trying to sound rough and edgy?

Log says:
Crestfallen isn’t the word.

Will says:
I’ve got piss on MY bum before.
Does that count?

Log says:
Emphatically, yes.

Will says:
Even if it was mere splash damage?

Log says:
Depends on the bareness of the bum, and the temperature of the piss.

Will says:
Or, indeed a drippy public toilet loo seat?

Log says:
You sat on a pissy seat?
Is that what I am to glean?
Is this a story worth telling?

Will says:
I was drunk. It was dark. I was young.

Log says:
I’m not judging you. I’m just rehearsing for a new Tales of the Smear

Will says:
My piss/smear cupboard of stories is bare.

Will says:
Although I once had a nurse stick her fingers up my bum with a bum-pill, and I proceeded to shit all into a cardboard bowl.

Log says:
Mine too. Apart from pissing in my mates sink only to realise it was blocked, then having to scoop it all out with my hands.
Hang on, you just said something about shitting into a cardboard bowl! Cardboard isn’t usual.

Will says:
And then my phone rang and it was a wrong number, and I spoke to them while shitting.
And then my Dad walked in and I shouted at him to go away.
All the while, trumping and farting.

Log says:
You fought a nurse’s fingers using only the forces of your bowels?

Will says:
They were powerless to resist.

Log says:
THIS, IF TRUE, IS A LUCKY SMEAR STUMBLE

I got so excited at this stage that I transferred to a real life talking conversation, in which Will told me that the nurse said “there are some hard ones up here, Mr Porter”. Sorry about that, I’ll try to keep my composure for the real Tales of the Smear.

Hi everyone! If there’s anything that I hate about dogs (and there isn’t, because I love everything about dogs) - it’s the fact that they can’t talk. I hate that about dogs so much. I know George isn’t keeping secrets from me - I mean, what secrets could he have? I keep him drugged in the airing cupboard, so it’s not like he has any experiences he’s not sharing with me.

It’s just that.. I can’t be sure he loves me as much as I love him, and that makes me hate him. It’s like someone’s cannibalised my soul and turned me into a paradox machine. If you’re not reading this just after I wrote it, then they just did that to the Tardis on Doctor Who. When I saw it, I just rolled my eyes and said “I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL”. That’s in capitals because I realised after I’d said it that I was screaming.

So this is my cartoon strip! I showed it to George and he tried to put all four of his paws in my face.

Hi, Jennifans! Here’s something I did that… well, it makes me want to puke to be honest, but I think it captures Jennifer’s playful, sexy and psychotic nature pretty OK-ish. It’s also convinced me to put that third cake back in the bin. That third delicious cake, whose only sin was to be born so irresistable. He never asked to be so delicious! That poor cake is just like me, I should definitely eat it. But this is the last cake today!

I AM SO NAUGHTY

Also, what the fuck is wrong with my elbow? Why has no-one told me my elbow looks like that?

[Oh, and… in case you’re wondering what the fuck this is, or who Jennifer is, it’s a terrible thing to have to explain - but basically she’s my ex-girlfriend, and here’s a 2D-adventure she had in 2001]

Remember that cunt, Francis Gilbert? It’s from the time when I regularly posted, and people commented. From when I was a contender.

FRANCIS GILBERT POSTS
Francis Gilbert vs Law of the Playground
Francis Gilbert’s Real-Life Actual Blog

At the time, it prompted me to start a spoof Gilbert website, which quickly became “a lot of effort”. Note the lack of substance behind the front page, which links mainly to the cunt’s own site.

Frances Gilbert (mine) vs Francis Gilbert (his - curmudgeon alert)

Actually, that’s not all I did, because I became briefly obsessed with the massive, freckled prick - I installed some over-complicated content management system with a view to writing loads of stories by Francis Gilbert, in which he bemoans the ugly, stupid and loathsome world in which he has been forced by the cruellest whims of his Lord to suffer at the hands of the under-educated and impolite. Here’s that abortion of an attempt, too. There’s some content among the dummy stories, so hang in there, tenacious reader!

Anyway, to change the subject, if you go to my Frances Gilbert site, you’ll see the papier mache head at the top left, and if for any reason you’ve been here, you’ll maybe know that it’s a papier mache head of my imaginary girlfriend, Jennifer Tolstoy.

Well… after I met someone in the pub at the weekend, and they told me they liked Jennifer’s pages, I started thinking “fucking hell, I didn’t know you, you’ve got a wicked sexy moustache, and suddenly we’re talking about how great I am - this is hotter than I care to admit outside of the blog format”.

So, I’m going to do some more Jennifer Tolstoy-Blyth pages. As far as I can make out, she works in a Zwarovski crystal shop, where she dusts the swans (but not the stupid frogs), we split up in 2004 after she realised that the penisses actually went into the anusses, and weren’t just resting against them for support, and she’s started her own life in Brighton with some of her most super-friends ever.

This shit writes itself, and that’s the way I likes it. It’s time to dust off the paper helmets, and get that oversized stolen nurses uniform. She may work in a crystal shop, but that doesn’t stop her doing unsolicited nursing work.

Have you heard about the new game that is being made? I don’t suppose you have, because the magazine article I wrote in PC Zone isn’t out yet, and it’s not like there’s any more immediate ways of getting information these days. The new game is so exciting - if you’re Korean - that it’s had crowds of assembled Koreans screaming in delight, and such is the lasting appeal of the original game, to Koreans, that this sequel could easily have the same effect amongst Koreans in Europe, too. When this game comes out, you’re going to have to staple-gun your breeches to your inner thighs, unless you want them catapulted off by a blue sphere of sheer excitement.

So what’s the game about? Well, apart from the fact it’s StarCraft II and there’s a bunch of new units and that, Blizzard responded to questions by folding their arms and growling. What they didn’t realise is that I am a world-class tickler, and after three minutes dragging my teeth lightly across their raw flanks, they told me literally everything about the game.

PREPARE YOURSELF FOR SOME OF THE MOST EXCLUSIVE SHIT YOU’VE EVER SEEN - SOME OF THIS STUFF IS SO SECRET I CAN’T BELIEVE I’VE BEEN ALLOWED TO KNOW IT AT YOU

This is the first time these two bunches of ships have met each other in ages. Those three on the left - Team Blue - have just totally gone up to the guys on the right, and started lasering them. The guys on the right are all like “fuck off /what the fuck”, because they were under the impression this was a diplomatic meeting about shipping quotas, and suddenly it’s all lasers and fucking hell. The guy in the ship on the bottom left is phoning his boss - this is an actual conversation from the game.

“They’re firing lasers at us.”
“That wasn’t on the itinerary. You should be negotiating trade routes at one o’clock.”
“Tell me about it. I’m so cross I can’t explain. I’m hopping mad.”
“Have you tried asking them to stop?”
“That’s the first thing I did.”
“Well, quite frankly I’m at a loss for words.”
“Everyone here is, too. Can you put something in writing to them?”
“Right away. Who shall I address it to?”
“Just put To Whom It May Concern.”
“A little frosty, perhaps?”
“You might be right. Put Sir/Madam.”

LATER

“Hello yes?”
“Good afternoon. You do know you’re firing lasers at our ships?”
“Oh God, I know. I’m so sorry about this.”
“May I venture to ask you why?”
“It’s these panels. You wouldn’t believe how close the laser button is to everything else.”
“We keep ours underneath a plastic flip-lid.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Hello?”
“Sorry, I was just writing that down.”
“So can you stop firing lasers at my team’s ships, please? Our health bar’s well into the yellow.”
“We’re trying. It’s just that the off button’s in another room. Give it a couple of minutes.”
“Oh, dear. I’m not sure they’ll last that long.”
“Well, I hope I’m not being too forward in suggesting that your ship might move out of the way of our laser until we turn it off?”
“Well I hardly think it’s our responsibility to get out of the way of your lasers.”
“There’s no need to be like that.”
“Now I’m hopping mad, too. This is the absolute limit.”

Uh-oh! This guy - the amazing new Whopper Tank - has joined the fight. That means trouble for the Banjo Squadron, who’ve assembled to petition Principal Belding about the quality of school dinners at Galaxy High. There’s also a sub-plot, in which a casually sexist comment (which draws a gasp and a boo from the live studio audience) causes the girls to challenge the boys to a game of soccer, to show them who is best at soccer, and by extension everything else.

Everything is going well, until one of the girls hoists up her dress and queefs on the ball, making the boys feel weird about kicking it, in case the queef gets in their shoes. Then the other girls start honking each other on the boobs and giggling. In the last five minutes, these unfair distraction tactics have left the boys down 4-2, and it’s only with the help of religion that they begin to see women as demonic temptresses, leading to widespread physical abuse, female circumcision, and a 5-4 win for the boys.

This scene is a real tearjerker. It involves a lot of the people coming to a realisation, or developing their characters. The plot of StarCraft II is so complex that there are at least two thousand realisations and character developments in every mission - here are just some of the twists, realisations and developments going on in this screenshot.

• I’m more like my enemy than I care to admit
• Getting hurled away from a gigantic explosion isn’t as much fun as it seems on movie posters
• If my wife could see me now she’d shit a red brick
• There are nine million bicycles in Beijing, that’s a lot of bicycles
• I’ve never hated The Lightning Seeds more than I do now
• Right, that’s it, I’m joining the evil team
• Whoops I forgot what we’re fighting for lol so jaded
• Let’s get crunk on lime schnapps

This is the final showdown. Everyone’s turned up: Jim Raynor, Big Dave, Captain Conkers, Al’Jaffa, Bryony From Accounts, SodBot 5000, Customers Number 145 through 162, Reece Dinsdale, and even comedian Jeff Green pops in to deliver a quick stand-up routine about how happy he is in his relationship with his wonderful wife, and how much richer and more abundant the world seems once you’ve reproduced. If you’ve seen the last episode of Heroes, where everyone puches Sylar once and he goes “stop it, you’re bullying me“, then it’s pretty much like that.

And that is what happens in StarCraft II, which will be out in 2008. Thank you very much.