RADIO 1 bosses believe they're going to halt the listener fall-out by letting Chris Moyles take over from Sara Cox on their prized breakfast show. Bizarre. How can swapping one breathless, self-obsessed, over-grown student banging on about the hangover they picked up at some D-List party the night before for an even grosser males version, somehow be a turn-on?
Moyles has only ever been a poor mans Chris Evans. Which by definition must today leave him underneath the arches, burping cider fumes on to a whippet. His potty-mouthed malcontent act was funny for about five minutes but, sadly, he took that fame as proof he was
the voice for disenchanted youth. Then brutally found out that he wasn't when his telly show proved as disastrous as his diets. It was car-crash TV. Without the rubbernecks.
From what I can work out, Moyles has 3 "talents". He draws false laughter from sycophantic sidekicks by shouting out synonyms for arse, fart, poo, fanny and willy.
He bangs on about dominating "hilarious" pub conversations with mates whose names all end in "ers", remembering to pepper his boring tales with Leeds United references to maintain norhtern street-cred.
And he bullies mid-life crisis-suffering Radio 1 producers into allowing only half a dozen records to interrupt his daily three-hour marathon. Because they think he's "dangerous". Sure. About as dangerous as Jennie Bond. And more dated.