Home Sweet Home campaign: bad landlords and rip-off letting agents should be afraid, very afraid

Originally posted on Andy Winter's BHT Blog:

Last night I attended an inspiring event organised by Home Sweet Home made up of student activists at Brighton and Sussex Universities. The campaign aims to expose the worst practice by certain private landlords in Brighton and Hove, and shameful practice of some letting agents.

I was humbled by the findings of the Home Sweet Home activists. It does Brighton and Hove no favours that some accommodation in the city is so poor, and that young people, often away from home for the first time, are exposed to squalid and sometimes dangerous conditions.

In Brighton and Hove we are fortunate to have landlords (I would say the majority of landlords) who take their responsibilities seriously, renting out well maintained, safe and decent homes. Then there are some bad landlords, either by design or omission, who need to improve their act. And then there are the downright evil ones, the ones…

View original 116 more words

Seven Things More Interesting than Kate Middleton’s Cervix.

by Lily Rae

As Kate Middleton smiles beatifically in hospital, her cervical dilations being broadcast to all and sundry as she squeezes a mewling pork chop out of her dainty wine cellar, I’m saddened and sick that she’s now fulfilled her purpose as a breeder to this repulsive family. This unfortunate child will be taught from the moment it becomes sentient that it is better than every other child in the country. It will be doomed to a name like “Henry” or “Edward” or “Victoria” or “Elizabeth” – it will be sent to a vile boarding school and its every move will be documented by fucking Hello! Magazine. It won’t be able to have so much as a furtive teenage wank without there being some scandal. And yet, across the country, people are putting down Union Jack tablecloths and organising street parties and building shrines to William’s blue-blooded testicles (probably). It’s sad and pathetic.

So here are some things that are more interesting than this ridiculous royal baby nonsense.

1. Muesli

image: wikimedia.org

I’ve just rediscovered muesli. I’ve never been a huge fan – it’s chewy and oversweet one minute, and then flavourless oaty goop the next. However, in the summer months all thoughts of eggs and bacon or pancakes or beans on toast go right out of my head and I just want something cold and quick which will keep me going til barbecue time. It was invented about a hundred years ago by a Swiss guy. He gave it to people in hospital – probably because they were going to die anyway.

2. People trying to change their fortunes through palm surgery

image: yourjewishnews.com

Yes, this is actually a thing. People are asking for lines to be carved into their hands in an attempt to increase their chances of health/wealth/happiness. It costs over a grand and the ‘surgeon’ in the article is clearly insane. People are idiots.

3. My album!

It’s called Your Face and it’s all finished!! The tracklist is as follows:

It’s Not Cute, It’s Just Creepy

Posh Totty

Linda Hamilton

Fun Sponge

I Don’t Care About Anything

If You’re Bad At Poetry (Don’t Do It)

Skeleton Song

You Remind Me Of Someone Else

So Damn Nice

Your Face

All I need is artwork and gigs. If you want to give me a gig and you’re in the UK within reasonable distance of London, LET ME KNOW! My songs are very short and I don’t have a band – if you want to be in my band, then for god’s sake get in touch. I can make people dance without touching them.

If you want to help me with artwork and you is well arty, then also get in touch. Facepaint enthusiasts especially.

Not gonna lie. I don’t have any money and I’m not expecting to buy a castle with the proceeds of this album. But I solemnly swear not to do an Amanda Palmer and pretend that I can make it up to you in hugs and beer before going home to roll around in ill-gotten gains. I can’t. But I will make sure that we have lots of fun and I definitely won’t shaft you.

4. The things you find under your bed when tidying up

image: wikia.com

I have a large collection of Sylvanian figures from my childhood. My best friend Robyn and I used to rip off their tiny pretty dresses and trousers and shirts and manufacture weird tribal robes out of red tights, and put little cocktail stick spears into their hands and make them fight each other. I also found a plastic lizard in a makeshift leather jacket, some Beanie Babies, two copies of the Smiths Special issue of the NME, a reeeeeeeeally sad diary (documenting 2006-2007 – not fun) and a note to myself in marker pen saying “NOT FRIGID – JUST CREATIVE.”

5. Giant snails

image: blogspot.com

The giant African snail has no natural enemies, according to Wikipedia. That’s a pretty good life. When I was little, my dad and I used to go to Brixton market (when it was actually a market, and not a horrible yuppie village full of boutiques and weasel coffee) and this one time, he bought me two giant snail shells.

They were incredibly beautiful. Gold and brown with flecks of creamy white, perfectly spiralled, like an ice-cream cone designed by God. Unfortunately, they smelt like a tramp’s crotch.

6. The Hunterian Museum at the Royal College of Surgeons

image: londonandall.com

It’s the Bicentenary of the Hunterian museum this year, and I’ve not actually been but am desperate to go. Anyone fancy coming to look at some skeletons?

7. Roller Derby! Or specifically, CROYDON ROLLER DERBY!

image: rollerderbyphotography.co.uk

Roller derby is a very fast, very scary game on rollerskates. Without going into the rules too heavily, two teams of women beat the shit out of each other with one especially speedy terror from each team trying to zip round and score points by passing the other players without getting creamed.

Unfortunately, the artistic representations of roller derby are pretty polarised – we’re either portrayed as a herd of Miss Trunchbull-type heifers stampeding around a track and accidentally killing Simba’s dad, or else we’re a bunch of buxom 80s hookers in fishnets and PVC, theatrically slapping each other until our tits fall out of our crop tops.

Neither is true. Believe me when I say that women from all backgrounds play this sport. Publishing executives, prison guards, teachers, therapists, estate agents, waitresses, and the gainfully unemployed. Rich girls, poor girls, big girls, tiny girls. Women with tattoos, women with kids. We can all skate, and we can all hit each other pretty hard.

Luckily for you, my league – the formidable Croydon Roller Derby – are playing against the Welsh Tiger Bay Brawlers on the 17th of August. It’s a Saturday, it’s in London, it’s only £5.50. The crowd go nuts, there’s hooting and hollering, there are cakes, there are stalls, there’s a bar, there’s a raffle, there’s an opening bout (kind of like a support act) which I’M PLAYING IN. you have absolutely no excuse. Even if you have no idea what roller derby is, I can promise you the most exciting day of your life.

I love sports, though it’s tough to keep loving it when the world of sports is so controlled by men, and only seems to value female athletes if they look like lingerie models. That’s why I love roller derby – it’s by women. It’s for women. Men help out, but they don’t take centre stage. And no-one can argue with a female athlete who can give dislocate someone’s shoulder with a legal hit.

Buy your tickets here, find us on facebook here, follow us on twitter here. Mainly, though, buy your tickets here.

PS: I’m especially looking for people who might want to come along to the game and write about it. Email me at lilyraew@hotmail.com if you might be interested ;)

Doctor Who-The-Hell-Wrote-This-Garbage

We’ve always been close right? You sometimes read blog posts I write. Occasionally you laugh at a line. From time to time, you even share them on Facebook because your soul is full to the brim with kindness today. That said, I think we need to step it up a bit with some serious sharing and caring. I’ll start. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks. Five rough weeks to be exact. I want to believe that it is going to get better but I know deep in my gut that it won’t. I need to tell someone why.

Doctor Who has gotten so bad.

At first I thought, like everyone in denial, that they are just having an off episode. It’ll get better. Oh, what a naïve fool I am! The viewing figures have even been going down by millions – that’s loads! Yes, I care about this topic so much I even did what journalists might call ‘research’ but I call ‘googling’. The first episode (The Bells of Saint John) got viewing figures of 6.18 million and Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS had 4.9 million (more info here). Soon it will just be me and a handful of British geeks, listlessly playing with their toy sonic screwdrivers, half watching and half sobbing. Then crywanking during the end credits. I describe dystopias better than Orwell.

(image: fanpop.com)

Rose would know what to do.
(image: fanpop.com)

Anyway. Here are the main thoughts that have been niggling away at my subconscious for some time now. They refuse to leave my brain until they are typed up, read and set up a brand new home in your brain. Oh and if you don’t watch Doctor Who, this probably won’t make a whole lotta sense – I’ll continue to write about periods and chick stuff next week. Enjoy. 

1. I keep figuring out the ending half way through the episode.

Indeed, I’m intellectually brilliant as well as beautiful but that’s not important right now. I’m not figuring them out because of my awesome brain power; they are just fuckin’ obvious. The leaf of her dead mum? Bitch please. That dead-mum-leaf might as well have had a big neon sign next to it saying ‘I AM THE RESOLUTION TO THIS CRISIS’. PFFT.

*slow clap* (image: hypable.com)

*slow clap*
(image: hypable.com)

Also – a dead mum AND a child singing? Both of those things have to be done well not to be saccharine as hell but TOGETHER DONE BADLY?

(image: geeksmash.com)

What an annoying cunt.
(image: geeksmash.com)

2. There doesn’t seem to be any plot.

Common sense tells me that there must be quite a few people who work on making a TV show. Accordingly, the odds are that someone would have noticed. Needn’t be a writer. Has someone’s PA not happened to be listening to a read through and remarked: ‘This is weird. I don’t feel emotionally invested in these characters at all,’ before Steven Moffat promptly slaps her around the face and beats her whilst shouting ‘SAY I’M BETTER THAN RUSSELL T. DAVIES! SAY IT!’

He probably doesn’t do that.  It would be awful if we all started a rumour that he does that at writers’ meetings when anyone criticises his scripts.

I liked Donna because she never tried to have sex with the Doctor. (image: fanpop.com)

I liked Donna because she never tried to have sex with the Doctor.
(image: fanpop.com)

You don’t have to be a professional script writer to see that the plot just isn’t there. The public isn’t stupid; they stop watching stuff that isn’t good. Sure, there’s a big ‘reveal’ coming up but the other episodes are supposed to have mini arcs with little hints that build up the series to a woah-dude-crescendo. Clara is currently less endearing than Amy which is quite an achievement. She’s not a doormat; Clara is tough and likes adventure… but they have stopped character development at those two qualities. The traits that every companion has.

3. Why does Clara’s hair bounce so much?

It wasn’t obvious until I read this; the author noted that every time Clara moves, her hair moves. This sounds unimportant until you notice it. Then you can’t see anything else. Every assorted alien, creature and demon could be surrounding a completely naked Clara and you would still be watching her hair with fascination as it bounced for side to side.

(image: screenrant.com)

On the upside. If she’s dead, her hair definitely won’t move.
(image: screenrant.com)

In the last episode they had her hair up. Have people been writing in to the BBC complaining about how utterly offensive it is to have her roaming locks all over their television screens? A noble cause if e’er I saw it.

4. Yahoo answers speculations about Clara Oswald’s origin are funny.

Here are the best explanations posted by anonymous users:

‘Maybe it is something to do with Amy and Rory and River! And children!’

‘Clara has nothing to do with freaking Rose Tyler,’

‘Even the Doctor would probably be able to tell that he was related to someone before snogging them.’

‘I have no idea what you are talking about!’

‘My theory is that she is hot’

You are welcome.

5. Russell T. Davies was better. I see that now.

When Steven Moffat took over, I praised him like every other schmuck. I kept saying things like ‘Well Girl in the Fireplace is one of my favourite episodes.’ Wasn’t the fez line funny? Oh how I laughed! Oh how we all laughed, thigh-slapped and updated our Facebook statuses with such glee! ‘Fezzes are cool,’ happily chuckled past me. Past me is, was and always will be an idiot.

I recently read the original scripts from David Tennant’s (and Russell T. Davies’)  final episodes The End of Time. I love those episodes. The Doctor isn’t calm or collected or in control. It’s totally frickin’ epic; it goes way beyond a kids show about space aliens. He dies alone in the TARDIS. Isn’t that kind of heart breaking and wonderfully poignant at the same time? No? Just me? I’ll show myself out.

The most difficult thing about seeing the past,present and future is that you know when TV shows are going to have an off-season. (image: vickywong.org)

The most difficult thing about seeing the past,present and future is that you know when TV shows are going to have an off-season.
(image: vickywong.org)

Okay, I’ll try to negotiate my way around the territory of incoherent rambles. Davies attracted an audience beyond Sci Fi fans. Getting nerds to watch Doctor Who is like shooting fish in a barrel. Fish that can’t find their contact lenses. Achieving a loyal audience consisting of those who do not own any special edition Battlestar Galactica box sets requires making a good TV show. Actually I own that box set, so lets say… Star Trek: The Next Generation?

NERD ALERT (image: contramundum.tumblr.com)

NERD ALERT
(image: contramundum.tumblr.com)

I’m not a nerd at heart. I don’t want to sit around for hours discussing technical slip ups and plot inconsistencies. I enjoy the approach of Red Dwarf which accumulated a staggering number of plot holes and loose ends at the end of Series 2. What they did was show a very quick Star Wars style introduction at the beginning of Series 3 that described the stuff that had occurred. The writing goes by so fast that you would have to record it then regularly pause it to read every word. I like that. Incidentally, having been revived after a ten year hiatus, the new series of Red Dwarf that aired this year was totally awesome. So it’s not all doom and gloom for fans of Sci Fi!

(image: wikipedia.org)

(image: wikipedia.org)

So why do I care about Doctor Who being bad? Well… I suppose… Mainly due to fact that… It used to be brilliant. It should still be brilliant. You’ve got this fantastic back story of the Time War; you have the Doctor with all the clever in the universe but all of this loneliness, isolation and assumed responsibility; and finally, the changing companions immediately facilitate exploration of someone’s life in depth. Jesus, I sound like I’m doing an undergraduate dissertation on it. What I’m saying is… With all it’s got going for it…

WHY CAN’T THEY MAKE IT GOOD?

Has the entire writing team suddenly suffered a traumatic breakup? Are they all in bed eating ice cream and watching Friends repeats? Or have they been infiltrated by a terrorist organisation that wants to undermine the quality of Doctor Who in order to bring Western civilization to its knees? They’re making what anyone can see is bad TV in the knowledge that there is a guaranteed audience that will watch Doctor Who no matter how rubbish it gets. It’s a waste of a series. I for one would rather have no Doctor than this badly scripted buffoon guy appearing every week.

Everything might turn around this Saturday. Clara’s hair could remain stationary; no tiny chanteuse may perform; the Doctor won’t ride some kind of space bike for no apparent reason. Given what has happened thus far it doesn’t seem likely. So this one is a bit of a write off (lol), there’s always next series. Also – Rose is in the finale. I love Rose.

And we’ll always have something no-one can take away from us: the fez joke.

Here is a cat in a fez:

(image: cheezburger.com)

(image: cheezburger.com)

MSN: A Requiem.

by Colin Surname.

Today, well-known computering firm Microsoft are starting the retirement process of their once-popular instant messaging program MSN Messenger (The ‘MSN’ stands for ‘MesSeNger’). This news is particularly wounding to those of us who were teenagers within the first decade of this millennium (‘the ooies’), or at least pretended to be.

Messenger was generally used by smiling women with an interest in movie. image: MSN.com

We grew up with it, you see. We were on the computer all the time before it was cool. Whilst you were out having physical contact and getting sufficient sleep, we made friends all over the world. They might not be able to lend us sugar, but they can be there for us when we need to talk at 5am.

I don’t think of MSN as a close friend per se – more of a chatty client. Though its low self-esteem caused it to constantly try to ‘update’ itself and fit in with the social networking crowd, it provided us with many formative experiences along the way:

    • Our intellectual growth: from textspeak, through proper English, to ALL CAPS OMG
    • Our first long-distance relationship
    • Our first online nudity
    • Our first long-distance breakup
    • Seeing our very own parents come to discover Messenger
    • Blocking our very own parents
    • Minesweeper Flags

MSN, or “Windows Live Messenger” as it was known to morons, had a famous cry, “Dooty-doo!”. Despite limp imitations such as Skype’s “Bwouwup” and Facebook’s “Buwoo!”, “Dooty-doo!” remains unassailable and will always resound in our (L) of (L)s.

Jen asks about her own hair. Sally laughs in the face of “Loading”. They both go 2 movie. Image: Softmaximum.com

Messenger had a lot of innovation – for example, it was the first IM client to introduce the ‘Nudge’. This feature brought online communication one step closer to real life by emulating that point in a conversation where they look away from you for a second, so you jump on their foot and do a primal scream.

The Group Conversation feature, meanwhile, gave us the opportunity to form vast committees of friends and have a big, focussed discussion. Sure, most of the people dropped out within the first minute, but that Malaysian guy you ended up with knew a lot about chemtrails.

MSN’s later years were not moments of pride: it would often be found in the company of cheap young pleasuredroids with algorithmically-unlikely female names. Some of us were driven away by late-added features, such as Winks, display pictures being on the left, and fewer people signing in. Still, MSN recognised the different fonts and colours in our voices, and could always express whatever little yellow face, animal impression or lewd, poorly-animated custom gesture we wanted to make.

“That which we cannot say through an Emoticon, we must pass over in words.” – wiggy_wittgenstein2004@hotmail.com Image: miranda-im.org


MSN Messenger will actually be continuing its service in mainland China, where it still enjoys widespread use, though only two unique messages are allowed: “I love our country” and “I agree”. For the rest of us, though, our beloved interface will soon be no more, whenever Microsoft empties their Recycle Bin.

Goodbye, MSN. I know you’re off to that big instant messaging server in the Skype.

http://messenger.msn.com/MMM2006-04-19_17.00/Resource/emoticons/cry_smile.gif

The Top 10 Worst Sex Scenes (that I can think of at the moment)

by Ben Browne, author of The Popcorn Bucket.

If you’re offended by movie shagging, don’t click the links.

Movie sex is very different from actual sex. You don’t need me to tell you that – you have brains. Most of it seems to take place in a parallel universe where bed sheets are L-shaped and there’s no such thing as cellulite or beer bellies. Where are the scenes where one of the lovers has to grovel and bargain for the act to even take place? Where’s the bit where one of them swears the other to secrecy and informs me that if I tell people about this, they’ll deny it? Guess that’s why they call it “Hollyweird”, eh?

Compiling this list, I realised there are very few films that actually contain decent sex. In your bog-standard film, they’re usually eye-rolling affairs that you have to endure in order for the film to move on. Sort of like unskippable YouTube adverts. At worst, they grind everything to a halt and ensnare you in a web of awkward hilarity. This isn’t a definitive, all-time, chiselled-into-concrete top ten, just ones that came to mind when posed this question. This isn’t in any particular order either, so don’t tell me number 6 should be higher or whatever.

1) Daredevil (2003):

Daredevil was a lacklustre superhero outing about a blind lawyer imbued with superhuman abilities who deals with court cases by day and deals out vigilante justice by night. Today it’s only really known as one of the lowest points in Ben Affleck’s career and for introducing the Goth warblings of the aptly-named Evanescence to the world.

Fucks funny: Future husband and wife, Affleck and Jennifer Garner, get their slow motion writhe on in front of a roaring log fire. They touch up each other’s battlescars in a big old heap of cliché. This isn’t the worst offender ever, it just neatly encapsulates most of the laughable tropes associated with love scenes. Last year’s The Dark Knight Rises has a similar scene, but is thankfully handled slightly better. If you could make it through the attached intellectually offensive Entertainment Tonight snippet, you’ll have picked up that we have studio interference to thank for this shite scene. Mercifully, when it came to the director’s cut, this scene is missing- just one of the many reasons the director’s cut is the superior version.

2) The Sweeney (2012):

(image: thefancarpet.com)

(image: thefancarpet.com)

The Sweeney is a terrible film based on the gritty ’70s cop drama of the same name. It starred Ray “Cock-er-ney” Winstone and Ben “Plan B” Drew. Having been tasked to review it, I resented every minute of its runtime and couldn’t wait for its laughable finale (an underwhelming car chase through a dreary caravan park) to be over. You know you’re in trouble when even an appearance by Damian Lewis can’t save your film.

Fucks funny: This one is based on the participants, rather than the actual sex, so call me shallow if you want. I had to look away when Ray Winstone and the lovely Hayley Atwell nip off for some celebratory thrustings in a pub toilet. I’ve been a bit in love with Ms. Atwell since she played Peggy Carter in the underrated Captain America film. She’s bloody brilliant. So you can imagine the last thing I want to see is Gravelly Ray jamming his tongue down her throat and mindlessly humping her like a dirty old bulldog. Reading that back, I sound oddly possessive of Ms. Atwell. I’m not. It’s just some day she will be my wife. She WILL. I carved it into my arm and everything.

3) The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2 (2012):

(image: nextmovie.com)

(image: nextmovie.com)

I don’t actually mind the Twilight franchise. Most of the films are godawful, but then I’m not in the target demographic. I wouldn’t call myself a fan by any stretch, but I certainly don’t possess the searing hatred for it people on the Internet seem to be consumed by. Yes, it is terribly written and yes, there are some insidious moral undercurrents about love and sex due to author Stephenie Meyer’s religious background, but it’s mostly pretty harmless. Breaking Dawn Part 1 also featured a terribrilliant sex scene where the couple destroy a four-poster bed in an Austin Powers-esque bit, but Part 2 takes the cake.

Fucks funny: Drippy newlyweds Bella and Edward (Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson) do the maritals in a quaint little cottage. Annoyingly, the film skimps on the details on how two undead beings with no blood running around their bodies can even have sex. It’d be like trying to poke a sock into a bucket of sand. Being rated a 12A, the filmmakers are severely limited in what they can actually show. Usually to get round this, they have the hackneyed close-up of a hand clenching the bedsheets to imply orgasm. Breaking Dawn Part 2 thinks it knows better than that by CGI-ing a golden sparkly mist around Bella’s head when she reaches O-Town. When this happened, I hooted with laughter. It’d be a genius bit of parody if it wasn’t so earnest.

4) The Rock (1996):

It’s the cool thing to hate Michael Bay and most of it is with good reason. However, the only reason I sometimes feel the urge to defend him is because he’s responsible for The Rock, one of my favourite films. If you haven’t seen this thick slab of fun starring Nicolas Cage, Sean Connery and Ed Harris, I urge you to do so. It’s your typical “Bayhem” atypically coupled with a strong script, genuinely great performances from the lead actors and a surprisingly complex and sympathetic villain.

Fucks funny: Any Nic Cage sex scene is a bad thing. I just don’t want to see or think of the guy on the job, quite frankly. Stanley Goodspeed’s rooftop love scene with his fiancée makes me cringe every time I see it. His oily commentary coupled with his infamous unhinged expressions cause me to smile and grimace at the same time. This is probably the least offensive entry on the list because the scene is predominantly played for laughs. Also, no-one in their right mind would get down to business to the strains of Elton John’s “Rocket Man”.

5) Monster’s Ball (2001):

Monster’s Ball made some ripples back in 2001 but is now only really remembered for nabbing Halle Berry the Best Actress Oscar for her role as a Leticia, a woman whose husband is on death row. It’s one of those films that seems important at the time, gets nominated for a buttload of awards but fades away from the public consciousness like, well, Evanescence.

Fucks funny: In what should be a touching union of two lost souls finding comfort, Halle Berry and Billy Bob Thornton go at it hammer and tongs. I have two problems with this. One, Berry’s constant refrain of “make me feel good’ at the start which she strains out with like a toddler having a tantrum in a crowded shopping centre. Two- ol’ William Robert Thornton Esq. who goes through the motions grunting like a winded pensioner and with an unwavering look of boredom on his face.

6) Gigli (2003):

Widely known as the other other low point in Ben Affleck’s career (Jersey Girl represent!) Gigli (pronounced jeel-yee, not “giggly” although the latter is more fitting) is a turgid romantic “comedy” that deals with some slapped together mobster shit. It starred Bennifer Mark I (J-Lo instead of Garner) and was rightfully a box-office bomb.

Fucks funny: After a millennia of leaden dialogue and zero chemistry between Larry (Da Fleck) and Ricki (Lopez), Ricki and Larry return to his apartment and after some painful exchanges and some kissing, J-Lo leans back on the bed and says one of the worst lines in the history of cinema (probably): “It’s turkey time…Gobble gobble!” which has got to be the least attractive cunnilingus come-on ever, apart from something like “Fancy frenching the clam?”. The resulting sex is yawnsome too, but you won’t notice it because you’ll still be reeling from les mots diabolique.

7) The Matrix Reloaded (2003):

Resulting in Phantom Menace levels of disappointment, the hugely anticipated sequel to game-changer The Matrix was released in 2003. The film had a strange preoccupation with the tedious “real world”, meaning audiences were forced to sit through long stretches of boring people talking about their boring problems instead of watching leather-clad badasses flipping off walls ‘n shit killing people multiple times over before they hit the ground. Revolutions is the stinkier turd though.

Fucks funny: Famous anti-actor Keanu Reeves gets hot and heavy with the none too thespianally gifted Carrie-Anne Moss whilst a city-wide underground rave goes on. Swirling dreadlocks, bare feet, nipply tanktops and sweaty slow-motion make this one a killer. The monotonous pulsing music doesn’t help either.

8) The Terminator (1984):

Now, I love me some Terminator. The first film is a stonking classic and Terminator 2: Judgment Day is one of the best sequels ever made. One of the things that separates The Terminator from its sequels is that at its heart, it’s a love story spanning time itself between Kyle Reese and Sarah Connor (Michael Biehn and Linda Hamilton). It’s actually quite touching, but will hurt your head if you think too hard about all the timey-wimey stuff.

Fucks funny: Reese and Connor get funky because they fancy each other and also because of the small matter of saving humanity blah blah blah. It’s the early ’80s so some things can be excused, but by gum, is this bad. The whole act is accompanied by a tender piano rendition of the kick-ass Terminator theme which doesn’t work at all. Also, Reese grips on to Connor’s tits like he’s holding a ladder steady for a builder. Coupled with the fact that they both make faces like the Shepherd’s Pie they had for dinner is repeating on them and you’ve got a fabulously bad love scene. Rest of the film still rocks the shit though.

9) Showgirls (1995):

Showgirls is a legendary capsule of cringe. Fresh from not being able to act in Saved by the Bell, Elizabeth Berkley transfers her unacting skills to play Nomi Malone, a drifter who just wants to make it big as a showgirl in Las Vegas. It’s an exploitative, entertainingly crappy film with plenty of nudity on display. You get the feeling it was always destined for a late night Channel 5 slot. It’s also worth checking out if you haven’t, if only for the scene I’m about to describe.

Fucks funny: Nomi seduces Zack (Kyle MacLachlan) and revenge-fucks him in a pool, tastefully surrounded by neon palm tree lights. It all starts fine enough, a little champagne drizzle here, an underwater suck there, but soon the pair unite and Nomi starts thrashing and flailing around like a dolphin having electroshock therapy. As with most of the scenes on this list, the soundtrack takes it to the next echelon of awful.

10) The Room (2003):

Source: theman-cave.com

Man, 2003 was a bad year for sex wasn’t it? I wonder what went wrong. Anyway, Showgirls may be bad, but The Room makes it look like Citizen Kane. This low-budget pet project of weirdo Tommy Wiseau is awful. Everything is off about this film. The dialogue, the acting, the story, the music- everything. It’s pretty much a comprehensive list of how not to make a film. Having said that, it’s funnier than 90% of the comedies out there. It has gained cult status as “the worst film of all time”, but I disrespectfully disagree. The Room, whilst apocalyptically terrible, manages to be incredibly enjoyable. I would say the worst films out there are the ones that aren’t even entertainingly bad. There are often special screenings of The Room around the country and you owe it to yourself to go to one. You’ll never forget it.

Fucks funny: Take your pick. Like the rest of the film, the sex scenes are fantastically shite. Everything is so unremittingly dreadful from the atrocious music to the painful acting. Even the humping is off, at times it looks like he’s thrusting into her thigh or just past her altogether. How bad do you have to be if you can’t figure out what goes where? My personal vote is for any time we see Wiseau’s arse. I could have quite happily lived without knowing what it looked like.