Rod Hull and Emu and Snoop Dogg - PassionFord - Ford Focus, Escort & RS Forum Discussion
When Snoop Dogg wanted curry for his after-show party at a London club When he met Rod Hull and Emu on The Word, for instance, he took. Channel 4 pull you fingers out and bring back random shit like this;-) Rod Hull and Emu meet Snoop Dogg piliciauskas.info?v=lliPLRuGxq0 Rod Hull. there was no time for Rod Hull and Emu's attack on dear old Parky, the clip of the time Rod and Emu met Snoop Doggy Dogg on The Word.
Foreign affairs A day in the life of New Rumsfeld Donald Rumsfeld is in Europe, making friends and influencing people. So how has he changed? These days, I wake up to a nutritious bowl of muesli. A long time ago somebody - I think it was Nixon - told me it had twigs in it, and I believed him.
I even used to make fun of people who ate muesli, but that was the old Rumsfeld. A typical morning will find me forging closer ties with Europe. I realise now that it is not enough to do everything right; there's also a little something called diplomacy.
It means visiting top leaders, smiling, being expansive, shaking hands, maybe with the other hand touching a shoulder. I never used to like big alliances - the old Rumsfeld preferred small, ad hoc coalitions with suck-up countries looking for a favour - but now I totally get that we really are all in this together. New Rumsfeld sees the bigger picture! You like the jersey?
A Dogg's dinner
I made it myself. That's right, I knit. My own designs, mostly. The sun, I guess, represents democracy shining on the world, and the sheep on the back is peace.
I made one almost exactly like it for Kim Jong-Il, which he loved. All these years of nuclear stand-off, and now we're going fishing next week, all because I remembered his birthday. I'll bet you wish New Rumsfeld had been around a few years ago. I know I do.
Since it's Tuesday today, chances are I'll be visiting my hairdresser, Carlos. He's given me a new, tousled look, which he says frames my face better.
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A lot of people say that with the new hair and glasses I look like a bit like Germaine Greer. I hear he's a pretty smart fella.
This is not a change in policy, by the way. It's a change in Rumsfeld. When I say, "Let's support our brave boys fighting in that godforsaken illegal war," I'm just saying what I've always believed.
New Rumsfeld is just better at expressing himself. I now truly think we can all work to make this world a safer, sweeter place.
Back me up on this, or so help me I will take you off at the neck. If you've encountered them with a burgeoning sense of annoyance at the idiocy of it all, you might actually enjoy this week's zany offering: While Mark Lamarr wound up the show, Snoop, intolerant of this bird handler's hardly sublimated hostility, chucked Emu in the corner and, with an angry expression, rested one gangsta rapper's foot on Rod Hull's neck.
What is this thing called talk? Surely the British variant of talk is called chat and was exported, with some success, by Alan Partridge to France, where he set up a fortress of chat, or chteau.
I am at this moment putting my right index finger on my nose and pointing with my left finger at my in-house drummer, who is halfway through a neat roll. Which is proof enough for me not only that satire does not work but also that there is no benevolent, interventionist God. When Allen interviewed Erroll Flynn, for instance, both were dressed as swashbucklers and traded blows as they swapped inanities.
Erroll Flynn got on the Central Line during the rush hour the other day, shirt open to the waist, sword alert in his sword hand. Where does this train go to?
Fewer guests, perhaps, but more weapons. Imagine if interviewer and interviewee were equipped not merely with swords, but with shotguns and live ammunition? Charlton Heston might well become a much more exciting prospect as an interviewee, particularly if he lost his temper with Des O'Connor. Imagine, further, that once the interactive possibilities of the medium are properly exploited, with the simple push of a button Freddie Starr need never darken our screens again.
This is the kind of attainable entertainment future that our so-called public service broadcasters are too lily-livered to contemplate.
Instead they are content to show us clips from old programmes and pass them off as prime-time entertainment.