72 Point Blog National News, PR and Market Research Specialists…

7th   Apr

STOP THE BRAND WAGON…

I hate Russell Brand with a passion that has quite obviously lay dormant in my soul for every one of my 41 years.

He makes my blood boil, no, in fact it’s worse than that. He makes my blood explode over the lip of the pan leaving an annoying mess seared onto the top of my hob, which has me reaching for the Jif, Cif or whatever the hell it is called now.

Brand is a disgrace to mankind and a disgrace to the profession of comedian. He should be dragged out of his house in that horrendous black and yellow dressing gown and striped leggings and left in the empty cellar of an MP’s second home to rot. He is a symptom of everything I hate about this country.

His rapid rise to fame and fortune has been achieved without ever him displaying an ounce of talent. I have tried so hard to join the mass army of Brand fans who fall about laughing at every profanity-littered sentence which spews from his mouth.

I have tried to understand why women in this office fawn over him and call him a ‘sex God’ when to be honest a picture I saw of him in a paper naked on a balcony brought back images of old Albert from Steptoe and Son with his shirt off. What sort of bloke wears his hair like Shirley Bassey in her prime, regularly dons make up, dresses like a court jester and is never seen without a three-feet long beaded necklace? Women say he looks cool.

I disagree. To me he looks like one of Adam Ant’s backing singers. So after months of struggling with the concept that this man is supposedly one of the funniest people in Britain whilst trying to appreciate his ‘work’ my ambivalence finally landed on the side of utter dislike when he played that God-awful trick on poor old Andrew Sachs.

That was the point when the festering hatred lurking deep within me, and usually reserved for people like Ashley Cole, exploded. Since then I have witnessed this shameless self-publicist join the anti-capitalist protesters in the city, (who bizarrely welcomed him with open arms) parade around his street in garish nightwear and then stick the knife into Jack Straw and his teenage son with a withering, whining posting on Twitter.

All this from a ‘comedian’. Am I the only one who doesn’t finds this comedian particularly funny. As far as I can recall comedians used to be funny people who made us laugh and smile.

Admittedly the phrase ‘tortured genius’ is often wheeled out but surely Brand is neither. So where will all this end? If this carries on can we please organize a mass demonstration, perhaps somewhere round Primrose Hill or wherever this oaf lives, to protest about the looming death of the great British sense of humour. Tommy Cooper would be turning in his grave.

Written by Doug