Confused Views: Dyer, Dyer, face on fire

Matt redresses a mistake that he made where Mr Danny Dyer is concerned...

Danny Dyer

I didn’t realise how awful my eyesight had gotten until I got my new glasses. Turns out I haven’t been seeing things in quite as much detail as I thought I had been. Silly me. It feels like I was seeing the world in standard def, whereas my glasses have upgraded my eyes to HD.

Unfortunately, nearly everything I can now see fills me with disgust and burning hatred. It’s like I’m in a Blu-ray version of Taxi Driver. I think I might smash my shiny new eyewear up because I don’t want to see properly if this is all there is to look at. I mean, have you actually looked around lately? There are posters plastered across every free surface advertising a million different types of bullshit, none of them useful to anyone at all. There’s dog shit and chewing gum and litter everywhere. And have you seen the people? Fuck me, the state of them. I’m sure I saw someone yesterday who had two noses, and she was the most attractive person I’ve seen in the last week.

Perhaps the worst part about seeing clearly, though, is that I’ve been able to spot a glaring error I made in this column a few weeks back. It first came to my attention that Danny Dyer is actually unbearable during an episode of Charlie Brooker’s* panel comedy show You Have Been Watching. It was here that my attention was drawn to the column Danny Dyer writes for Zoo magazine. “Oh no,” I thought, as I had a flip through Mr. Dyer’s writings, “I was quite nice about Danny Dyer. I didn’t realise that he was this awful.”

So now I seek to make amends. I’ll be doing here what I did in my ‘Dyer Dyer Pants on Fire’ column, only hopefully the content will be a little bit more appropriate. These are some television shows and films adapted into vehicles for Danny Dyer.

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2 Pints Of Lager And A Cockney On Fire‘ – We take the existing bullshit sitcom that, despite being about as funny as a child having a fatal brain haemorrhage at his parents’ joint funeral, has managed to stay on TV for what feels like forty-five series, and we rerecord some of the most popular episodes. Everything would be the same except that in the background of every scene Danny Dyer would be writhing around in agony, completely on fire. He’d never have any lines, the characters would never refer to him or even notice him, but he’d be there, screaming in flames in the background.

The Englishman Who Went Up A Hill But Came Down A Mountain Only To Be Torn Limb From Limb By Bloodthirsty Wolves‘ – Now, I haven’t seen the Hugh Grant film that this remake would take its basis from, but most Hollywood remakes seem to take the same disinterested approach towards their source material so it hopefully won’t make any difference. Danny Dyer would star as the Englishman who goes up a hill, presumably to call someone a ‘fat bird’ or because he’s seen some ‘right sorts’. He then goes down the other side of the hill, which it turns out is a mountain. Waiting at the bottom on this mountain are a wild, hungry pack of wolves. They waste no time in setting upon Dyer and tear him to shreds over about 70 minutes. Then they stop and have a little nap beside his badly injured although still not dead yet body. Then his phone goes off and his ring tone is a predictably soul-crushingly shit dance song. This sends the wolves into a frenzy, where they tear him piece from piece over another twenty minutes or so.

Big Brother’s Idiot Cousin‘ – Danny Dyer gets locked in a cupboard with a CCTV camera. Forever. Plus you, the viewer, get to text in to see your message scrawled across the bottom of the screen:

“dany is wel fit, come on dano!”

“laura, wil u mary me? Come on Danny, ur da best!!!”

“omg, mazziv Lols at Danny shittin himself”

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“Do u fink hes ded?”

Brilliant, no?

Britain’s Most Brutal Cage Fights To The Death‘ – In which the host of the show (Dyer week one, realistically someone new every week that follows) would take on a professional cage fighter in a match that will only end when one of the two competitors is dead. I’ve drawn up a provisional list of presenters and fighters which would pit mockney geezer Danny Dyer against current Ultimate Fighting Championship’s heavyweight champion Brock Lesnor. I’ve also got Ant (from Ant and Dec) down to fight Fedor Emelianenko, Fearne Cotton against Gina Carano and Vernon Kaye battling it out with Anderson Silva. Over a six week run that would leave two fights spare and I’m toying with the idea of setting Noel Edmonds against Internet sensation Kimbo Slice and then repeating the bout the following week. Given that these are death matches we’d need to insist on a minimum of three rounds, otherwise the rematch would be a complete waste of time. Even with the three round rule what we’ll essentially end up with is 15 solid minutes of corpse pummelling, which isn’t without its appeal.

How’s this for an additional idea to use as a substitute for the girl in the bikini holding up a round number card? Before each round a different Chelsea football player is put in front of a firing squad, who let loose on them. Once the bullet-ridden, decimated body has slopped onto floor, the number of the round is visible on the wall behind them. Well, assuming it’s not obscured by blood… and bits.

So, that’s what I have. All ideas I think we could get onto TV, but probably only on Bravo. In the mean time I suggest you all check out the video of him being punched in the face on YouTube, which Robmac kindly linked to in the comments section of my ‘Malicious Pin Dropping’ column. It’s so good I’m worried that I’m actually starting to find it arousing.

*The eagle eyed amongst you may have spotted that this whole column is basically just a dim-witted tribute to Charlie Brooker. I honestly don’t know why you’re here, reading this, when you could be reading Screen Burn.

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