When did everything get so shit?  Growing up I vaguely recall a certain level of shittyness around, but nothing like it is today.  You can't go five minutes these days without encountering something which completely redefines your previous understanding of shit.

Since it's impossible for me to write letters to all the shitty things I encounter, I've decided to launch the League Table of Shit where I can list some of the things I encounter each month, describing their shittyness, then presenting them to you in gorgeous graphical table format for your information and - to a lesser extent - your sexual gratification.

Three new entrants will appear every month, and only time will tell where in the chart they will place.  It'll be quite exciting.  In a way.

Without any further ado then, let's meet our first three entrants.  In reverse order:

3.  The Radio 1 Chart Show
I was sorely tempted to give this place to the whole of Radio 1 which I ended up listening to on a long car journey recently, but decided the Chart Show deserved special mention, so I have singled it out.  See what I did there?  Nice.

The last time I listened to the Radio 1 Chart Show - or the "Top 40" as we quaintly called it then - it was a show which played the top 40 songs in the UK singles chart in their entirety, with very little talking in between.  It made sense.  There was an undeniable logic about it.  So what happened?

While making the four hour drive back from Aberdeen recently fate decided to fuck me over good and proper by preventing me picking up any radio stations other than BBC Radio 1.  I'm not sure if it's the painfully limited playlist, or the fact that the inane presenters are fuckwits to a man, but Radio 1 has done my nut in ever since Mark and Lard left a year or two back.  Even then they were all I could listen to on the station.  I'm sure you can imagine my dismay then at having no other station to choose from during my long drive.

I had already developed a severe facial tick from hearing Beep by the Pussycat Dolls once every fifteen minutes, so when the Chart Show came on I thought this would at least provide the opportunity to listen to something other than that and the other four songs which make up the Radio 1 playlist.  But oh no.  What was one of the first songs they played?  Beep by the Pussycat Dolls, despite the fact it's not even out yet.

Now correct me if I'm wrong, but a show which claims to be a rundown of the top 40 singles sold in the previous week should not feature a song which is not yet on sale.  It goes against the entire concept of the show.

And since when did the Chart Show feature phone in competitions?  Aren't there enough phone in competitions on each and every other fucking show on the station?  In fact isn't the Chart Show now exactly the same show as every other show on Radio 1?  It's like they've designed a generic show template and just slotted different presenters (okay, so not that different) into it and used the bland, samey shit that spewed out the other end to fill their schedules.

The formula seems to go something like this:

Husky female voice/Cheeky chappy male voice + "comedy" sidekick + unimaginative song selection - any notion of talent whatsoever = A Radio 1 show.

On another note, during the phone in competition one of the Chart Show's presenters - "JK" I believe - mentioned that the other presenter, "Joel" was the UK's Worst Celebrity driver.  Hello?  I'm sorry, what?  Exactly what is our criteria for being a celebrity these days?  I may be wrong, but I think it's a fair bet that the word "celebrity" derived from the word "celebrate".  I find it difficult to imagine anyone celebrating the talents of this clown, driving or otherwise. 

2.  Diet Cherry Coke
I've never liked Diet Coke, but I love Cherry Coke like it was the newborn Baby Jesus, so I was excited despite myself at the idea of Diet Coke of the Cherry variety hitting UK shops.  Having successfully converted from full blown Irn Bru to the low calorie version last year with startling results I was hoping I could do the same with Cherry Coke and give myself two soft drinks to choose from as opposed to just the one. 

Naturally as soon as I spotted a bottle of the stuff in my local Co-op (having thrown a handful of paracetamol at the Chavs outside to distract them) I bought it and rushed home to try it.

Oh fuck no.  Diet Cherry Coke is beyond question the worst thing I have ever tasted in my entire life, and this is coming from a man who as a child fell into raw sewerage with his mouth open.  The Coca-Cola Corporation have made the bold move of magnifying and combining the worst aspects of both drinks to form one Über Shit concoction of evil.  They've taken the slightly sickening cherry sweetness of Cherry Coke and multiplied it by a million, then added whatever the crazy chemicals in Diet Coke are that make it foam like a mad scientist's most mental potion as soon as it hits the glass.

Because I was unsure of the stuff from the start I'd only poured a small glass full.  Once the Diet Coke fizz had died down it was barely a pub measure at the bottom of the tumbler.  I still couldn't finish it.  That was still too much Diet Cherry Coke for one man to handle.  Or this man, anyway.

I would sooner sit down and eat an entire jar of old style Bovril with a spoon than let this stuff pass my lips again.  Not just bad, but actually offensively so, Diet Cherry Coke came within a whisker of making the top spot on the League Table, but was narrowly beaten into second place by...

1.  Aberdeen Taxis
After leaving the Aberdeen Exhibition and Conference Centre at 11pm recently I phoned a number of taxi companies asking them to come pick me and my lovely missus up.  You know what they said?

"I'm sorry, I can't help you.  I haven't got any cars out at the Exhibition Centre."

THEN FUCKING SEND ONE!  Isn't that the entire point of a taxi company?  You phone them, they send someone to pick you up?  Or am I missing something here?  Perhaps every time I've called a taxi in the past it's been solely down to luck that one has been circling my house at that very moment awaiting my call.

Four companies I called, and all four said the same thing.  It's not even like the Exhibition Centre is an enormous distance out of town or anything.  I could understand it if it was five miles out or something, but it's only about a mile and a half out of town, and even that's along a big straight road with no turning of the wheel required.

You would also think that with 5000 people spilling out of a single venue and all hoping to return to the town centre some bright spark at some cab company somewhere might think of sending a few along on the off chance they might do a bit of business.  But no, the only way you were getting a taxi that night was by phoning in for one, only to be told there was "nothing in the area".

We eventually got hold of a company who said they'd send one out in a few minutes.  An hour later we were still stood in the same spot, colder than we'd ever been in our lives.  Every so often a taxi would pull in and everyone would rush to it, hoping, praying it was theirs.  Nine times out of ten the driver didn't hear the right name being given - the person who booked them probably having long since died of hypothermia - and so he drove away!  With no-one in the car!  When they didn't find their fare, they turned round and drove back to the rank in town, refusing to take anyone with them.

Damn you Aberdeen Taxis.  Someday, somehow you shall all feel my wrath. 

The League Standings for March