MC Hammer - and he won't mind me saying this because, let’s face it, he's not reading it - is an idiot, a dancing dimwit who managed to soft shoe his way through 50 million dollars before eventually filing for bankruptcy in 1997. 50 big ones off the back of his 18 million selling album, the ingeniously titled Please Hammer, Don't Hurt 'Em. Far smarter people than you or I have reasoned that if he simply invested this sum in the bank he would of had 5 million a year in interest alone and that's for the rest of his life; in 1990-1991 alone, according to Forbes, he papered the walls of his own ego with 33 million dollars.
The details of this lunacy will have you double dunking your Hob-Nob in shock, take for example the entourage. Hammer, I know what you’re saying - 'misery loves company' - but you always seemed so chipper in the cartoon, so why you feel the compulsion to travel with 200 people is beyond me; 200 people on your fucking pay roll is astronomical, it’s the equivalent of the entirety of Greggs south west coast division applauding your each and every dump.
Further to this insanity is the great man’s choice of business manager, with 35 million coming in a single year alone; you'd have thought that someone might of taken the Prince of the Pantaloon aside and suggested he pick someone qualified to steer the ship through its inevitably choppy terrain. Turns out old Hammer was thinking way past us on this one, employing his eldest brother, a man without one iota of business experience or prior knowledge of its many Norfolk sized pitfalls.
Amongst the myriad of catastrophic cock-ups the pair came up was 'sure fire' money making schemes like buying sodding racehorses, Hammer being a bit of fan of the old nags decided that one wasn't enough. No, he went for 21 instead. To be honest, Hammer, it would have been quicker to shoot the things. Cars are the fuel injected cliché of all pop stars and Hammer was no exception, buying 17 top of the range automobiles for him and his gift guzzling entourage, but it was property that really stepped on his toes; good thinking Hammer, you got this one sewn up old boy- hang on, you whacked 10 million on a pile of bricks and a further 5 on modifying it to your standard? Trouser shaped swimming pools? Gold plated gates emblazoned with the words 'Hammer Time?’ Marble statutes of yourself in the image of Michelangelo's David complete with foot long schlong; oh yeah that will be easy to sell on, Kirsty and Phil will sort that right out. Sure enough two years after purchase he couldn't shift the thing, eventually selling it for 5 million to someone with a Lovejoy-like eye for a bargain.
But like all good American dreams this story has a second act. Once bankruptcy was declared and the baying media ravaged for his bones Hammer saw the light and found the lord (changing the M.C to stand for Man of Christ obviously). He went on to become an ordained minister and preach the gospel and even presided over the wedding of the walking venereal disease Vince Neil. But as the great man himself will tell you the Hammer cannot be stopped. Having found the Lord he then discovered the power of Google and the wonders of the web. An early adopter of Twitter he has amassed 3 million followers and last year announced he had created a new search engine called 'WireDoo' with the tag line 'search once and see what’s related'. Hammer, I'm going to be straight with you, I have no idea what that means, but all power to you.
MC Hammer stands for us all to admire; an undisputed idiot but one who has to be applauded for his efforts and if nothing else proves; there is no sum of money to large that a human being can’t piss up the wall.