Tuesday 25 November 2008

Reality Bites...

Ooh how good is ‘Spooks’ these days? I think the new series has been great and I’m worried about Harry for the last two episodes.

Now if a proper cynic like my good self can get into a program like that then I think it’s a credit to the actors, writers and everyone else involved. However it also shows up the rest of the shite on television these days for what it really is – cheap, lowest common denominator bollocks.

‘Reality’ shows in particular cheese me right off. In the main they’re just this centuries equivalent of putting the village idiot in the stocks and laughing at him, well with the exception of one. ‘The Restaurant’, in my not so humble opinion was class and involved real people actually working for something they’d always dreamt of instead of fat, tracksuited oafs screeching at a camera in a vain attempt to convince themselves and the nation that their worthless lives actually mean something.

‘But Simon..sniff…it’s my dream…always has been…sniff

‘You’re not good enough – get out…I’m Mr. Nasty me…’

‘But…sob…ever since I was a little girl I wanted to be a singer…it’s all I’ve ever wanted…’

At this point I would like to step onto the set and ask the spotty, ugly charva the following questions :-

So Fatty – you say you’ve always wanted to be a singer and it’s your dream?

‘yes…sniff…’

And with this in mind have you ever taken any singing lessons?

‘…no…sob…me mam couldn’t afford them…’

Did you think of getting a paper round or part time job to pay for them?

‘…sniff…no…’

What about working in the clubs as a singer and honing your act?

‘…sob….but I go out on a Saturday night so I couldn’t do that and anyway I practice down The Hare and Hounds on a Friday at karaoke night..sniff’

So what you’re saying is that in your youth you couldn’t be bothered to get off your lazy fat arse and do some graft to pay for singing lessons or stage school and even now you can’t be bothered to do any kind of work towards your ‘dream’. Instead you just want to be plucked from obscurity, magically made good looking and catapulted to instant stardom and a life of luxury through the virtue of being able to scream ‘I will always love you’ to a pub full of old soaks and lesbian darts teams louder than anyone else on a Friday night?

‘…sob…sob but it’s me dream…’

Well in that case I suggest you downgrade your ‘dream’ career to something you have more experience of and an obvious aptitude for – start practicing this phrase luv ...‘Do you want fries with that?’

Now fuck off from my screen and let’s have an extended edition of Dr. Who on.

Friday 21 November 2008

Who yee calling a Radge?


Woohoo – I’m officially published again!

I received Byker Books inaugaral publication the other day – the seminally titled ‘Radgepacket’ and frankly, it’s fucking class.

Proper stories about proper people doing proper things – about time an all.

Anyway, I’ve stuck a pic up of the front cover (which is a class act in itself!) and if you’re interested in reading it for yourself/giving it to someone as a stocking filler then head over to the Byker Books site as they’ve got all the details on there (it’s cheap an all mind!).

Byker Books

Oooh I got invited to claim my money back from the thieving eskimo bastards that had kept hold of it for the last couple of months this week as well – theoretically I should be off the breadline again come this time next week – happy days.

All in all a canny week – toodle pip.

Wednesday 12 November 2008

Scum.

I’m normally a bit chirpy. It normally takes a lot to get me down. Sometimes I just pretend to be in one so I can entertain you lot. Not today.

I’ve got every reason to be in a good mood this week and I was going to tell you about it today but that changed at about ten pm last night.

That was when I watched a horrific news item about a baby tortured to death in Britain. I won’t go into the details of it as it still upsets me now. Suffice to say the three people responsible (unbelieveably the child’s mother was one of them) will hopefully live lives full of fear and be the recipients of beatings, abuse and torture themselves every day for the rest of their miserable stay on this planet. Cunts.

No, my thoughts today are with Haringey social services and their failure. The child was on the protection register, he was visited numerous times by social workers and medical people. Every time his injuries were missed – they were some fucking BIG injuries! His clothes actually had his own dried and aged blood on them for fucks sake.

Haringey are the same mob who missed all the stuff happening to poor Victoria Climbie a few years back and after that they had an inquiry and promised they’d changed all their procedures…it would never happen again…children come first…blah blah blah.

Their spokeswoman last night informed the nation with a grave face that ‘written warnings’ had been given out but ‘there is not enough proof to sack people’.

How much proof do they fucking need? In fact bollocks to proof, the people in charge at that place would resign if they were any kind of human beings. Instead they cling onto their jobs and accept no responsibility for their failure to keep a child alive.

The people who did it were scum – the people who allowed this to happen again and then hid behind their mountain of ‘inconclusive’ reports aren’t far behind.

This country’s fucked.