Writer's Block
I haven't written in the blog for a while, well its Christmas you see! a good blanket excuse for all your December shortcomings.
There must be certain people that dread Christmas, those who work in law enforcement, public transport, accident and emergency, quite simply because The Great British Public + Christmas = More people going out drinking even more than usual = chaos.
My blog absence is not due to Christmas, rather writers block, can't particularly think of anything to write about.
Looking at my last post about holiday harrasment it finally sunk in why I get undue attention from homos and prostitutes when on holiday in Brazil, and I know who is to blame. 10 per cent of my plane was filled with European fellas whose holiday motivations I suspect was the non-stop packing of local fudge. The other 10 per cent were groups of ugly middle aged men with their valuable European currency they had spent the year saving along with an accumulation of lust given that the girls in their own countries won't look twice at them, no doubt they embarked on a charge of the crap haircut dodgy moustache brigade straight to the nearest brothel upon arrival.
Given my writer's block it makes me respect journalists more given that it is there job to produce material on a daily basis for the public to read..........actually that is bollocks the run of the mill journalists in the UK particularly those that write in tabloids are scum.
I realised this the other day when I was watching the secret life of Colleen on Channel 5, following around the publicity hungry fiancé of Europe's best footballer, Wayne Rooney. There was one columnist from the Daily Mirror who was responsible for the most vitriolic attacks on the future Mrs Rooney regarding her weight, clothes, choice of friends etc. Fair enough, Colleen seems to love the limelight and needs the journalists to boost her public profile, but when they were interviewing the journalist in question I saw this posh smart-ass trying to hide the fact she is approaching 50 with a Superdrug counter's worth of make up. I think it is sick that she goes out of her way to single out a (then) 17 year old from Liverpool who I suspect she is actually infinitely jealous of.
I'm not sticking up for attention hungry celebrities, to tell you the truth i'm sick of them, Big Brother contestants, failed Pop Idols, and washed up soap stars who are now famous for no other reason than actually being famous. What does this make the journalists who report on the celebrities' Kings Road shopping trips or drunken parties in Funky Buddha? merely parasites of a pathetic species, who as they can't be one of them take up a career writing about them.
There must be certain people that dread Christmas, those who work in law enforcement, public transport, accident and emergency, quite simply because The Great British Public + Christmas = More people going out drinking even more than usual = chaos.
My blog absence is not due to Christmas, rather writers block, can't particularly think of anything to write about.
Looking at my last post about holiday harrasment it finally sunk in why I get undue attention from homos and prostitutes when on holiday in Brazil, and I know who is to blame. 10 per cent of my plane was filled with European fellas whose holiday motivations I suspect was the non-stop packing of local fudge. The other 10 per cent were groups of ugly middle aged men with their valuable European currency they had spent the year saving along with an accumulation of lust given that the girls in their own countries won't look twice at them, no doubt they embarked on a charge of the crap haircut dodgy moustache brigade straight to the nearest brothel upon arrival.
Given my writer's block it makes me respect journalists more given that it is there job to produce material on a daily basis for the public to read..........actually that is bollocks the run of the mill journalists in the UK particularly those that write in tabloids are scum.
I realised this the other day when I was watching the secret life of Colleen on Channel 5, following around the publicity hungry fiancé of Europe's best footballer, Wayne Rooney. There was one columnist from the Daily Mirror who was responsible for the most vitriolic attacks on the future Mrs Rooney regarding her weight, clothes, choice of friends etc. Fair enough, Colleen seems to love the limelight and needs the journalists to boost her public profile, but when they were interviewing the journalist in question I saw this posh smart-ass trying to hide the fact she is approaching 50 with a Superdrug counter's worth of make up. I think it is sick that she goes out of her way to single out a (then) 17 year old from Liverpool who I suspect she is actually infinitely jealous of.
I'm not sticking up for attention hungry celebrities, to tell you the truth i'm sick of them, Big Brother contestants, failed Pop Idols, and washed up soap stars who are now famous for no other reason than actually being famous. What does this make the journalists who report on the celebrities' Kings Road shopping trips or drunken parties in Funky Buddha? merely parasites of a pathetic species, who as they can't be one of them take up a career writing about them.