Hi! I’m Judge Ito! Remember me? That’s right, I was the guy who whacked a fountain pen in some chick’s neck. Man, the weather sure was close that day - it was hotter than a goblin’s ass-crack. You know, this planet we share is a crazy place - for example, did you know that marmots got their name from Marmite on toast? Or that the Japanese have no numbers at all? Ask them what they scored at Pac-Man, and they’ll just draw a red line on some rope!

GEE! THAT’S THE HISTORY OF PINBALL!
You don’t see pinball any more, do you? That’s because pinball flippers were outlawed in 1994, after Tony Blair fell into a Star Trek pinball machine. While Cherie was trying to pull him out, her leg kept hitting the buttons, and poor old Tony’s balls got mashed to a pulp by those flippers. That poor guy! He was in so much pain, I’m afraid to say he lost control of his bowels. That day, I joined a small and unhappy group of people who have witnessed a British Prime Minister shitting on a gently tilted picture of Jean-Luc Picard.

BUT!!! Expect a pinball comeback if Gordon Brown takes the leadership - he was raised in the wild by pinball flippers after his parents were diced in a tunnel of lasers. “I think of myself as around 12% flipper,” he confided in his magical mirror. Newsflash, Gordon! That mirror ain’t magical! It’s a fuckin’ window!

GEE! THAT’S THREE THINGS YOU CAN’T DO WITH LADY MISS KIER!

• Crush her in your palm like you’re the most evil dude ever or something
• Use her like a battering ram to knock coconuts out of a palm tree
• Buy a “London” travelcard for her - (they’re non-transferable and you’ll be funding terrorism)

GEE! THAT’S THREE THINGS YOU CAN!

• Appal her with that picture of a bodybuilder whose ass just exploded
• Give her a sense of mystery by throwing question marks at her head
• Infuriate her with non-stop childish questions, like “what’s a bum?” and “have you got a bum?” and “if you didn’t have a bum would you buy one?”

Over to you, Count Fibula!

GEE! THAT’S HOLLYWOOD TITTLE-TATTLE! with Count Fibula
Is there anything these so-called superstars won’t do for $40 million? Only last week, action director Tony Woo came up to me and said “here, take a million dollars, all you have to do is come in here swing around on some wires and kick Keanu Reeves in the head a couple of times.” I looked at him, and I said “Oh, no you don’t, Tony. I’ve fallen for that one before, in the local sauna. Two hours in a sling with God-knows-what going up my ass, and did Keanu Reeves turn up? Did he hockey-sticks. ”

And that is so typical of Hollywood. One day you’re sucking A-List dick in a toilet made of sunshine, the next you’re being dry-humped by a stray dog in a skip full of syringes as you come out of a three day meth bender. Anyway, I’m totally made up by my new feature… Natural Born Celebrity Enemies List!

• Richard Whiteley vs Conrad Black
• Martin Short vs Shelley Long
• Supergrass vs Mow Mowlam
• Jimmy Nail vs MC Hammer
• Christopher Walken vs Chevy Chase
• Peter Sellers vs Joan Baez
• River Phoenix vs Matt Dam-on
• The Sugarhill Gang vs The Anthill Mob
• Orlando Bloom vs Deforest Kelly
• Hettie Wainthropp vs Gay Burns
• Alan Aldi vs Sid Lidl
• Arial Sharon vs Omar Serif
• DOUBLES MATCH! Cagney & Lacey with Elizabeth Shue vs Sol Campbell and The Barefoot Doctor

Thanks, Count Fibula! Well, that’s all for today’s Big Judge Ito’s Gee! That’s Neat-o! Got any amazing facts and shit that you think I’ll like? Leave ‘em in the comments! Go on! Don’t make me beg. I just want comments.

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?"