Message in an advert.

Some rapper (why is it always some kind of musician? Do the decibels rattle their brains or something?) has declared that the Egyptian Vodafone advert is a coded message to terrorists.

He claims that the baubles on the Christmas tree are bombs. Careful when you take yours down – don’t drop any! The tree is apparently giving some sort of secret hand signal even though it has no hands and it’s dead.

What does the message mean? Da Rappa explains –

‘These elements tell us that there will be a big mall and an explosion after a dog fails to find the bomb in a car’, he said.

That’s just crap. It don’t even rhyme. You call that rap? I call it a crime.

Keep the day job, Spider, you ain’t no Icke, and don’t diss phones that you don’t like.

… there would be more but tomorrow is early shift. Feel free to add your own lines to the Paranoid Twat Rap in the comments.

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6 thoughts on “Message in an advert.

  1. Even before the main dish, I’m struggling with cultural indigestion over the idea of a Christmas tree in Egypt. Presumably Mr Rappa does not know that all baubles were once made of glass and shattered on a regular basis (Ah, the sound of Christmas Past!).

    This is surely the best puppet-induced panic since the suggestion that Postman Pat’s three fingers would imply that he was a member of the Yakuza.

    Meanwhile, can never resist a lyrics challenge…

    Ain’t no coincidence,
    makes sense;
    no defense,
    you make music for the dense
    and deluded,
    every idiocy included:
    Call it Rap
    add a C
    and you see
    how it has to be,
    looks to me
    like utter lunacy;
    I shall call it paranoia
    just to annoy ya.

    Like

  2. “Some rapper (why is it always some kind of musician?”

    There is something wrong with that sentence….ah yes…I see now. You cannot juxtapose, let alone equate, the word ‘rapper’ with the word ‘musician’ in the same sentence; just isn’t possible. Next you’ll be calling it ‘poetry’ and I shall have no choice but to make trains and planes to Scotland and beat you to death with a soggy copy of Canterbury Tales in the original middle English:

    “Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote” *SLAP* “The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote” *KOW POW!!* ” And bathed every veyne in swich licour” *WHAMMY!* *BAM!*

    That said, I’m quite partial to a bit of Gangsta-Grass myself (think theme tune from “Justified”).

    Like

    • I have a real Gat. A .177 ‘air’ pistol that is nothing of the kind. It throws the barrel forward to launch the pellet. A feeble weapon but good enough to give the slugs a pellet they won’t get immunity to!

      Like

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