By his own admission, Kanye West is saving Hip-Hop. Now, I don’t know much about Hip-Hop. Well, I know the Dr Dre should have an acute accent over his surname, but my letters, skywritings, and endless ice sculptures remain meticulously unanswered.

No, I know fuck all about the Hip-Hop. But I do allow myself the small vanity that I am able to spot a big pair of crazy fucking cheeks when I see them. And here’s a publicity photo of Mr Kanye West!

For the sake of clarity and easy comparison, I have put a transparent melon over Kanye’s face. This helps us in the following way - we can see that if Kanye put his head into a melon, it would be fucking curtains for the melon. The luckless fruit’s pips would be jettisoned at Mach 3 by the force of two massive black cheeks.

Inset is a picture of someone who’s put a melon over his head in real life. You can’t really be angry at him, can you? You can try, but for every reason you think of, it just seems redundant to waste hatred on a man who is, at the end of the day, wearing a melon on his head.

All this begs the question - what’s in the cheeks, Kanye? Saving up some Iced Gems for your children? Maybe some Midget Gems? Hell, you could fit a library of Collin’s Mini Gem Encyclopaedias in there… and Jem and the Holograms could sit there reading them, on a table so big their elbows didn’t even touch.

With most Hip-Hop, you do get a sense of the person behind the song. The performer gives himself. For example, De La Soul liked a girl called Jennifer at one point, unless they were making her up. Xzibit makes sure all his hoes act damn accordingly, and rightly so. And Dr Dré got forgot about until he sang his song called “Hello, I’m Dre”.

So why isn’t Kanye singing about his cheeks? Honestly, they can be the only thing that guided his home upbringing and school life. They must have dominated his formative years. His mother refusing him food, with a stern “you’ve had enough, Kanye, as demonstrated by your enormous cheeks”. In the playground, things wouldn’t have been better - cruel kids screaming “here come the cheeks, lasts for twenty weeks,” and maybe “It’s time for the 10 O’Clock Cheeks”. The torment must be overwhelming. For Kanye to grow - as an artist - he simply MUST sing about his massive face.

If it’s a simple explanation, like he’s got a Toby Jug in there, then that’s great! People will move on, and say “that’s his choice - although I don’t understand it, he isn’t hurting anyone”. But this bottling up can’t be allowed to continue - or far from arriving to save Hip-Hop, he will realise that like a cartoon hose, he has been standing on the pipe. And it is about to blow off in his mouth.

Fair’s fair - I’ll suggest a first line. “I got cheeks, they’re multiplying”. That line comes built in with some great sampling opportunities, too - you could do the Megamix, and segué Pussy Wagon into a Kill Bill sample. Look, I’m not doing all the work for you, you plank-faced freak - get out there and start saving Hip-Hop.

GOD FACT : If you die really young and good, you get promoted to shagging age when you get to heaven. This is so that you don't piss God off by saying "what's that? What're you doing? Can I put two fingers in?"