I should have known better than to go to Tesco on a weekend, but I needed to pick some bits up for Katie's return to school on Monday morning.
It's never a good sign when the first thing you see is some stupid bitch going backwards and forwards in a space big enough to park the bastard Titanic. She had no understanding of even the basics of driving, by the end of her comedy routine I literally wanted to drag her out of the car, throw her into a bush and park for her. And what car was this inept tool driving? A large people carrier? Maybe a Range Rover or some other monstrosity....... No, a bloody Peugeot 107, that's right a motorised roller skate, a car I could have picked up and stuffed in my pocket and she's unable to get it into a fair sized space.
By now I was already fed up, there were more cars in the car park than I have seen for a long time, and as I went in search of a trolley I couldn't find a single bloody one. I had to wander around the various trolley parks looking for something to push my shopping around in. Success, only moments later I am in possession of a truly beautiful basket on wheels, it looked brand new and barely had a mile on the clock.
Then I discovered why the poxy thing had been left discarded in a dark corner like a leper. The wheels were knackered, and when I say knackered I mean they were totally cocked to fuck. All 4 wheels wanted to go in different directions and to be honest it didn't really do anything to improve my mood. It was like trying to push a 50 stone kid around on a pair of skis, it was sheer agony and to top it off it made an ethereal sound like a ghost wailing, a dog yelping and a child screaming from the bottom of a well.
People were looking at me constantly like I had an arm growing out of my arse, (I wasn't born in the Fens I moved here when I was very young) I think one woman actually tutted at me as I slowly shunted this wiry sack of crap past her because she couldn't hear her hillbilly daughter on the other end of the phone telling her she was pregnant with her 12th child from her 11th partner.
Ely Tesco is in the middle of a revamp, they have moved every single item to a new location and it really shows in the blank expression of the yokels dragging themselves around like a pissed slug. I mean really, it's not that difficult to open your freaking eyes and look for the strawberry fucking jam is it? I can see it from here and you should have an advantage seeing as you have 3 extra eyes.
At this point if you are a pensioner I'd just close this tab, hahahaha like you know what a tab is you blue rinse git. Why is it that the old folk decide to stop for a conversation about their best friends horrific case of piles? Why is it that they can't pull off to one side of an aisle to talk about how bread is far too expensive? Why is it that they decide to form a blockade by turning their trolleys inwards to face each other completely blocking you off from where you want to go? And finally why is it that they insist on telling us 'young'uns' that we have no manners when you happily let them through a gap and they look at you as if you've just fallen out of their massive, wrinkled noses?
I know we owe you for all of your sacrifices in the war, I proudly wear a poppy every year and support charities collecting for ex servicemen and women. But is it too much to ask that you show a little common courtesy from time to time? I really do have a lot of respect for my peers but when they show me nothing but attitude in return it's sometimes hard to bite my lip and walk on by instead of administering a swift kick to auntie Mabel's dodgy hip.
Looking for a till is always interesting, there are a few people I try to get to as they know what they are doing and get the stuff scanned fairly swiftly. However today I got some blubbering wreck of a lad that reminded me of a recovering alcoholic with confidence issues. It took him about 15 minutes to put my shopping through which is a joke, I could have done it myself faster if it wasn't for the fact that the self service tills don't accept American Express Centurion cards (oh yeah ladies, be impressed!)
Putting the shopping into the boot of the car one of the wafer thin bags split and my shopping rolled under my car, I know we're supposed to be looking after the environment BUT do we have to make bags thinner than a 95 year olds liver spotted skin?
Next time I'm going to drive to London and shop at Harrods, I think the parking would be less stressful, the staff wouldn't be slightly dimmer than a 10 Watt energy saving light bulb and their carrier bags are made of reinforced plastic. All in all I truly hate shopping.
Sunday, 30 October 2011
Wednesday, 19 October 2011
Alice, you're a dick.
Hi,
As some of you may know I am currently on a major lifestyle changing journey, and for once I'm not talking the drive to the fortune garden for a deep fried shredded beef in chili sauce.
I have been taken into a fitness program and under the guidance of a certain Tim Megginson (www.timmegginson.co.uk) am rapidly losing weight. 16 pounds down so far if my scales have stopped lying to me! Also my man boobs are in retreat and to be honest I feel more energetic and generally better about myself. Going from a 'J' cup to a 'D' is a remarkable achievement!
Well the reason I am blogging today is down to this very man. I'm not sure he'll appreciate me telling the story of the Alice origins, but let's just say she crushed him, and now he crushes us out of utter spite.
I'm not one to dislike people without having ever met them, so far I am mostly limited to Cher Lloyd, Katie Price, Elise (off of Hells kitchen USA) Martine McCutcheon (listen to her singing 'perfect moment', if that doesn't explain it all then you're a lost cause and should probably drown yourself in your toilet) Katie Waissel, Pete Doherty and Gareth Southgate.
Today I am going to add someone new to my list, A person so horrible that by her actions alone have brought pain, suffering and misery to far more people than I would imagine she would have ever expected. Her name will be etched into the minds of Ely fitness camps members minds and aching muscles for the rest of their lives. Her name is Alice.
I woke up this morning in remarkably high spirits, I drew back the curtains and was bathed in a warm, golden autumnal sunlight and I said to the wife "What a beautiful day", to which she replied "You'd better get a crack on you've got training soon". "Nah babe" I replied, "you know I don't train on Tuesdays". "It's Wednesday dipshit!" she said.
MY good mood darkened, her mood seemed to improve almost instantly, I knew today was going to be tough as we're nearing the end of the monthly exercise circle, and to be honest I considered throwing myself down the stairs. Still as we all know physical torture in the middle of a freezing cold park is most definitely the path to enlightenment (in the spiritual and dieting sense!).
It's time we talked a little about 'ALICE', she's a mean nasty bitch, she'll break your body, mind and spirit in a heartbeat and doesn't forgive the weak. The Alice I am talking of is however NOT a person. Alice is a fitness routine that has been devised to kill off people that aren't required any longer.
The routine consists of the following:
30 secs of Push ups
30 Seconds of rest
30 secs of push ups, 30 secs of Squat jumps
30 seconds rest
30 secs of Push ups, 30 of Squat jumps, 30 of Inch worms
30 seconds rest
30 secs of Push ups, 30 of Squat jumps, 30 of inch worms, 30 seconds plank
30 seconds rest
30 secs Push ups, 30 of Squat jumps, 30 of Inch worm, 30 of plank and 30 seconds of high knees
30 seconds rest
Finally you do:
30 secs of Push ups, 30 of Squat jumps, 30 of Inch worm, 30 of plank, 30 of high knees and then 30 secs reverse lunges.
YESSSSS ! ! ! I only bloody finished without dying! Admittedly my lungs felt like they'd been sandblasted and then had acid poured in them, they were also making a strange combination of noises including but not limited to wheezing, crackling and gurgling.
Tim: "Ok rockstars now we're doing it all in reverse! I'm going to give you 2 minutes rest and then we're going again"
2 minutes........ 2 fricking minutes? That's not even enough time for me to drag myself to my phone using my tongue (my arms had stopped working after set 3) and dial for an ambulance.
It was also at this point I discovered that I'd been kneeling or standing on a worm for the entire first set of exercise, not so bad for me but I think I royally fucked up his plans for the weekend. I named him wiggly and said a short prayer for him, I considered a short funeral service but some crazy American fella was already counting us down for the second set of Alice.
At the end of the session I finally understood what it felt like to fall out of a plane with no parachute, I lay on my towel, my body broken into small pieces, This is by far the hardest work I have EVER done!
So yeah, Alice you're a bitch... a spiteful, vindictive bitch and I hate you. On the plus side I am really starting to see results now and having 2 sunflower seeds and a glass of water for breakfast doesn't seem to feel quite so horrific anymore.
I am clucking for a full English breakfast, I miss crap food so much, but I know that if I stay strong until Christmas I'll be in such a good place it'll make the suffering well worth it!
Onwards and upwards, one more session this week!
Much love,
Dave.
As some of you may know I am currently on a major lifestyle changing journey, and for once I'm not talking the drive to the fortune garden for a deep fried shredded beef in chili sauce.
I have been taken into a fitness program and under the guidance of a certain Tim Megginson (www.timmegginson.co.uk) am rapidly losing weight. 16 pounds down so far if my scales have stopped lying to me! Also my man boobs are in retreat and to be honest I feel more energetic and generally better about myself. Going from a 'J' cup to a 'D' is a remarkable achievement!
Well the reason I am blogging today is down to this very man. I'm not sure he'll appreciate me telling the story of the Alice origins, but let's just say she crushed him, and now he crushes us out of utter spite.
I'm not one to dislike people without having ever met them, so far I am mostly limited to Cher Lloyd, Katie Price, Elise (off of Hells kitchen USA) Martine McCutcheon (listen to her singing 'perfect moment', if that doesn't explain it all then you're a lost cause and should probably drown yourself in your toilet) Katie Waissel, Pete Doherty and Gareth Southgate.
Today I am going to add someone new to my list, A person so horrible that by her actions alone have brought pain, suffering and misery to far more people than I would imagine she would have ever expected. Her name will be etched into the minds of Ely fitness camps members minds and aching muscles for the rest of their lives. Her name is Alice.
I woke up this morning in remarkably high spirits, I drew back the curtains and was bathed in a warm, golden autumnal sunlight and I said to the wife "What a beautiful day", to which she replied "You'd better get a crack on you've got training soon". "Nah babe" I replied, "you know I don't train on Tuesdays". "It's Wednesday dipshit!" she said.
MY good mood darkened, her mood seemed to improve almost instantly, I knew today was going to be tough as we're nearing the end of the monthly exercise circle, and to be honest I considered throwing myself down the stairs. Still as we all know physical torture in the middle of a freezing cold park is most definitely the path to enlightenment (in the spiritual and dieting sense!).
It's time we talked a little about 'ALICE', she's a mean nasty bitch, she'll break your body, mind and spirit in a heartbeat and doesn't forgive the weak. The Alice I am talking of is however NOT a person. Alice is a fitness routine that has been devised to kill off people that aren't required any longer.
The routine consists of the following:
30 secs of Push ups
30 Seconds of rest
30 secs of push ups, 30 secs of Squat jumps
30 seconds rest
30 secs of Push ups, 30 of Squat jumps, 30 of Inch worms
30 seconds rest
30 secs of Push ups, 30 of Squat jumps, 30 of inch worms, 30 seconds plank
30 seconds rest
30 secs Push ups, 30 of Squat jumps, 30 of Inch worm, 30 of plank and 30 seconds of high knees
30 seconds rest
Finally you do:
30 secs of Push ups, 30 of Squat jumps, 30 of Inch worm, 30 of plank, 30 of high knees and then 30 secs reverse lunges.
YESSSSS ! ! ! I only bloody finished without dying! Admittedly my lungs felt like they'd been sandblasted and then had acid poured in them, they were also making a strange combination of noises including but not limited to wheezing, crackling and gurgling.
Tim: "Ok rockstars now we're doing it all in reverse! I'm going to give you 2 minutes rest and then we're going again"
2 minutes........ 2 fricking minutes? That's not even enough time for me to drag myself to my phone using my tongue (my arms had stopped working after set 3) and dial for an ambulance.
It was also at this point I discovered that I'd been kneeling or standing on a worm for the entire first set of exercise, not so bad for me but I think I royally fucked up his plans for the weekend. I named him wiggly and said a short prayer for him, I considered a short funeral service but some crazy American fella was already counting us down for the second set of Alice.
At the end of the session I finally understood what it felt like to fall out of a plane with no parachute, I lay on my towel, my body broken into small pieces, This is by far the hardest work I have EVER done!
So yeah, Alice you're a bitch... a spiteful, vindictive bitch and I hate you. On the plus side I am really starting to see results now and having 2 sunflower seeds and a glass of water for breakfast doesn't seem to feel quite so horrific anymore.
I am clucking for a full English breakfast, I miss crap food so much, but I know that if I stay strong until Christmas I'll be in such a good place it'll make the suffering well worth it!
Onwards and upwards, one more session this week!
Much love,
Dave.
Saturday, 15 October 2011
Freak factor.
I promise not to blog constantly about X Factor, so don't get all grumpy at the fact I've done it again this week.
However between fitness training and dying on the sofa afterwards I am leading a fairly boring existence.
Now I know I bang on a fair bit about X Factor, but anyone with a Wife/Husband/Partner that is addicted to it like Kelly is, will sympathise with me.
Tonight I was sat there with a bag of sunflower seeds and a glass of water (my life is just that rock 'n' roll) being spoon fed this mass produced shite that has become a national institution. For me the saddest thing is that so many people continue to phone in and vote further lining the pockets of some of the richest people in entertainment for a product that could be bettered by most holiday camp singers.
Last week we saw the end of Jonjo Kerr (Really? Jon joker???) and a duet called 2 shoes..... 2 fucking shoes? I know all the good band names are gone now but even calling yourself pig cock would have more 'cred' than the shite they named themselves. How Jonjo got voted off instead of this guy I am about to beast the shit out of is totally beyond me.
Right, the first thing to piss me off was Craig Colton..... I know I'm hardly a multi platinum selling artist or a famous record producer BUT I know a good singer when I hear someone. He was uninspiring, irritating and for some reason I just had the urge to punch him on all 7 of his chins. I've belted out better performances whilst crawling through the gutters of Cambridge with a traffic cone on my head after drinking 9 pints of lager and a dozen vodka's!
Next up we have Frankie Cocozza.... He's so cool, he has tattoo's on his arse cheeks of various girls names! Wow mate you're fucking amazing, you inspire me..... to scoop my own fucking eyeballs out of my skull with a mouldy fucking teaspoon. Oh and get a fucking haircut, it looks like a family of Lurchers took up residence on your noggin and were promptly beaten to death with a bat.
OK now to Johnny Robinson, Or as I like to call him the bulimic skaghead. He honestly looks like he's been dug up from a grave and given fucking CPR. I don't really know how people like this are allowed on television, he's not edgy, he's not talented...... just fuck off will you. There's something almost creepy about him, I don't know if it's his mannerisms, his personality or just the fact he is fucking creepy, but there's something about him that makes me throw up in my own mouth a little.
As I am typing this some fucking troll faced tramp called Kitty is berating people who booed her last week, well darling, before you get on your high horse, oh too late you already have... you think they are out of order for booing you?
You're arrogant and you're going to fail, I just hope to god it's sooner rather than later so you can crawl back under the rock you crawled out from.
I have decided to actually apply for next years X factor, I am going to be arrogant, rude and miserable. It works for the arse rags on this years show so why not for me?
However between fitness training and dying on the sofa afterwards I am leading a fairly boring existence.
Now I know I bang on a fair bit about X Factor, but anyone with a Wife/Husband/Partner that is addicted to it like Kelly is, will sympathise with me.
Tonight I was sat there with a bag of sunflower seeds and a glass of water (my life is just that rock 'n' roll) being spoon fed this mass produced shite that has become a national institution. For me the saddest thing is that so many people continue to phone in and vote further lining the pockets of some of the richest people in entertainment for a product that could be bettered by most holiday camp singers.
Last week we saw the end of Jonjo Kerr (Really? Jon joker???) and a duet called 2 shoes..... 2 fucking shoes? I know all the good band names are gone now but even calling yourself pig cock would have more 'cred' than the shite they named themselves. How Jonjo got voted off instead of this guy I am about to beast the shit out of is totally beyond me.
Right, the first thing to piss me off was Craig Colton..... I know I'm hardly a multi platinum selling artist or a famous record producer BUT I know a good singer when I hear someone. He was uninspiring, irritating and for some reason I just had the urge to punch him on all 7 of his chins. I've belted out better performances whilst crawling through the gutters of Cambridge with a traffic cone on my head after drinking 9 pints of lager and a dozen vodka's!
Next up we have Frankie Cocozza.... He's so cool, he has tattoo's on his arse cheeks of various girls names! Wow mate you're fucking amazing, you inspire me..... to scoop my own fucking eyeballs out of my skull with a mouldy fucking teaspoon. Oh and get a fucking haircut, it looks like a family of Lurchers took up residence on your noggin and were promptly beaten to death with a bat.
OK now to Johnny Robinson, Or as I like to call him the bulimic skaghead. He honestly looks like he's been dug up from a grave and given fucking CPR. I don't really know how people like this are allowed on television, he's not edgy, he's not talented...... just fuck off will you. There's something almost creepy about him, I don't know if it's his mannerisms, his personality or just the fact he is fucking creepy, but there's something about him that makes me throw up in my own mouth a little.
As I am typing this some fucking troll faced tramp called Kitty is berating people who booed her last week, well darling, before you get on your high horse, oh too late you already have... you think they are out of order for booing you?
You're arrogant and you're going to fail, I just hope to god it's sooner rather than later so you can crawl back under the rock you crawled out from.
I have decided to actually apply for next years X factor, I am going to be arrogant, rude and miserable. It works for the arse rags on this years show so why not for me?
Monday, 10 October 2011
Virgin media sales people.
Now before I start I actually do use Virgin media's services. We have a telephone line and their 30 meg broadband, which on the whole are pretty damned good services.
Now lets get down to business, why in the name of god do companies insist on using sales teams based in Islamabad? The phone rang this afternoon and I answered it (as you do) and here's how the conversation went.
If you have seen Fonejacker picture the internet sales guy from India.
Me: Hello..... Hello?....... HELLO???
Salesman: Good afternoon am I speaking to Mr Pavel?
Me: Errr you mean Mr Powell?
Salesman: That is what I am sayings, Good afternoon Mr Pavel my name is (Insert indistinct phlegmy sounding name here) and I am calling you with some fantastic news!
Me: errrrrrr, OK.... What's the fantastic news?
Salesman: Well Mr Pavel, I am pleased to be tellings you that you are to be rewarded for your loyalty to Wirgin media, We are so happy with your custom that we are willing to offer you a fantastic gift!
Me: Awesome! What do I get?
Salesman: Well Mr Pavel, we are happy to be offerings to you a virgin medias tivo box for just £6.50 per month!
Me: OK cool, Can you help buy me out of my Sky TV contract then please?
Salesman: Oh you are having Sky TV? OK that is fine, we can still install our Wirgin medias tivo box for you so you can enjoy cheaper television! Isn't this great news?
Me: No mate you're not hearing me, we have Sky TV and are in a contract we can't get out of.
Salesman: OK well we can install it in another room for you Mr Pavel, this is to allow you to watch many more channels on another television.
Me: MATE! I have multiroom Sky, I have a sky box attached to both TVs, I don't need Wirgin, I mean VIRGIN TV!,
Salesman: well are you planning on buying another television in the coming days?
Me: No, I have all the televisions I need.
Salesman: Are you certain sir?
Me: Yes I am certain, now I've got to go out so thanks for your call but I don't need any services.
Salesman: But what we could do is................
Me: I AM NOT INTERESTED, DO YOU HEAR ME? I DON'T WANT VIRGIN TV.... I...AM...NOT...INTERESTED!
At this point I slammed the phone down only to pick it up 5 seconds later knowing the prick would still be there waiting for me to agree to an install date.
Me: OH you are still there, I AM NOT FUCKING INTERESTED, NOW PLEASE FUCK OFF!
I know he probably works for 1 rupee a year and has 47 starving children to feed but Jesus bloody wept why won't they just leave you alone when you tell them that you're not interested? There's pressure sales and then there's just this overwhelming, irritating bullshit that pushes you over the edge and gives you a muscle twitch in your finger or eyebrow.
SO please Wirgin media, I am not interested in your free internet broadbandings, your free ringdings or your cheap television that would actually cost me £6.50 a month for absolutely no benefit. Please just leave me the fuck alone.
Much love,
Dave.
Now lets get down to business, why in the name of god do companies insist on using sales teams based in Islamabad? The phone rang this afternoon and I answered it (as you do) and here's how the conversation went.
If you have seen Fonejacker picture the internet sales guy from India.
Me: Hello..... Hello?....... HELLO???
Salesman: Good afternoon am I speaking to Mr Pavel?
Me: Errr you mean Mr Powell?
Salesman: That is what I am sayings, Good afternoon Mr Pavel my name is (Insert indistinct phlegmy sounding name here) and I am calling you with some fantastic news!
Me: errrrrrr, OK.... What's the fantastic news?
Salesman: Well Mr Pavel, I am pleased to be tellings you that you are to be rewarded for your loyalty to Wirgin media, We are so happy with your custom that we are willing to offer you a fantastic gift!
Me: Awesome! What do I get?
Salesman: Well Mr Pavel, we are happy to be offerings to you a virgin medias tivo box for just £6.50 per month!
Me: OK cool, Can you help buy me out of my Sky TV contract then please?
Salesman: Oh you are having Sky TV? OK that is fine, we can still install our Wirgin medias tivo box for you so you can enjoy cheaper television! Isn't this great news?
Me: No mate you're not hearing me, we have Sky TV and are in a contract we can't get out of.
Salesman: OK well we can install it in another room for you Mr Pavel, this is to allow you to watch many more channels on another television.
Me: MATE! I have multiroom Sky, I have a sky box attached to both TVs, I don't need Wirgin, I mean VIRGIN TV!,
Salesman: well are you planning on buying another television in the coming days?
Me: No, I have all the televisions I need.
Salesman: Are you certain sir?
Me: Yes I am certain, now I've got to go out so thanks for your call but I don't need any services.
Salesman: But what we could do is................
Me: I AM NOT INTERESTED, DO YOU HEAR ME? I DON'T WANT VIRGIN TV.... I...AM...NOT...INTERESTED!
At this point I slammed the phone down only to pick it up 5 seconds later knowing the prick would still be there waiting for me to agree to an install date.
Me: OH you are still there, I AM NOT FUCKING INTERESTED, NOW PLEASE FUCK OFF!
I know he probably works for 1 rupee a year and has 47 starving children to feed but Jesus bloody wept why won't they just leave you alone when you tell them that you're not interested? There's pressure sales and then there's just this overwhelming, irritating bullshit that pushes you over the edge and gives you a muscle twitch in your finger or eyebrow.
SO please Wirgin media, I am not interested in your free internet broadbandings, your free ringdings or your cheap television that would actually cost me £6.50 a month for absolutely no benefit. Please just leave me the fuck alone.
Much love,
Dave.
Sunday, 2 October 2011
Louis Walsh - Fuck off.
From time to time I come across a 'celebrity' that makes me so angry it verges on making me mentally unhinged.
I'm talking about that feeling when there's someone on television that makes you feel so hate filled and psychotic that you get a muscle start to twitch in your eyebrow region. The twitch sits there, laughing at you while you're poking it to try and stop it from irritating you further but it just carries on regardless.
Well muscle, I've got news for you, next time I will simply punch you in the bloody face.
Tonight I came across a true nemesis of mine on X Fucktor. Louis Walsh, without a doubt this vile, prejudiced, poisonous, scumbag leprechaun fuck somehow manages to tick all the boxes in my 'how to become a serial killer' eye spy book. Never before have I met someone that infuriates me as much as this potato farming shit. (Apart maybe from Katie Price, Katie Waissel, Cher Lloyd, The Pope and god)
The man is supposed to be very clever at spotting talent, He's been in the music industry for years and is solely responsible for those pointy haired inbred fucks Jedward. Speaking of Jedward, does anyone else think they may be just a little bit more than simply 'brothers'?
Tonight I watched the poisonous leprechaun making his decision as to which 4 acts he wanted to put through.
First up we had some weird looking fella, He looked like a cross between an anorexic Alan Carr and Lurch from the Addam's family. The tool couldn't even speak with a good tone to his voice, he sounded like he constantly was on the verge of pissing his pants and it really made me hope that he'd get hit by a falling satellite (1 in 14 trillion chance apparently). I have more chance of winning sympathetic caring superstar of the year award than he has winning X fucktor.
Oh deary me, next up with have Kitty Brucknell, If you've been a long term reader of my hate filled bile you'll know of my dislike of Katie Waissel and Cher Lloyd from the last series of this car crash television. Kitty looks set to become even more despised than the pair of them glued together.
She seems to think she's edgy, well if edgy is fake, rehearsed, calculated poorly timed publicity stunts then edgy she is. The other day when she auditioned to get into the final 4 Louis asked her "How do you feel it went?" She carefully took off her shoes and jumped into the swimming pool next to her without even answering the question she had been asked.
I prayed so hard that the cleaners had filled the pool with sulphuric acid or maybe some hungry great white sharks (not the one that ate that guys legs in South Africa, that'd just be ridiculous) or maybe that she had bricks in her pockets. Sadly it was not meant to be and she made it safely out of the other side and had a chat with Kermit O'Dreary. She is going to be in the live finals, she'll be protected by rule changes just like Katie Waissel and Cher 'Swagger Jagger wanker tanker' Lloyd so don't waste money voting to try and get her out. I just hope that her flashing leotard type affair malfunctions and electrocutes her.
Goldie - What the actual FUCK! She can't even speak let alone fucking sing! She is everything that an escaped mental patient should be. She's deluded to the point she could share a cell with some other crackerjack loon such as Martin Sheen. Goldie, you're batshit loopy and I worry about the state of world entertainment if people such as you are picked ahead of people that don't look like Zelda from the terrahawks.
I'm sure my anger levels will rise week in week out, but it's hard at this moment in time to imagine how. I hate this junk television with all of my heart, but for some reason can't help but watch bits of it, I think I just like punishing myself, but that's a whole different blog entry.
Have a nice night,
Dave.
I'm talking about that feeling when there's someone on television that makes you feel so hate filled and psychotic that you get a muscle start to twitch in your eyebrow region. The twitch sits there, laughing at you while you're poking it to try and stop it from irritating you further but it just carries on regardless.
Well muscle, I've got news for you, next time I will simply punch you in the bloody face.
Tonight I came across a true nemesis of mine on X Fucktor. Louis Walsh, without a doubt this vile, prejudiced, poisonous, scumbag leprechaun fuck somehow manages to tick all the boxes in my 'how to become a serial killer' eye spy book. Never before have I met someone that infuriates me as much as this potato farming shit. (Apart maybe from Katie Price, Katie Waissel, Cher Lloyd, The Pope and god)
The man is supposed to be very clever at spotting talent, He's been in the music industry for years and is solely responsible for those pointy haired inbred fucks Jedward. Speaking of Jedward, does anyone else think they may be just a little bit more than simply 'brothers'?
Tonight I watched the poisonous leprechaun making his decision as to which 4 acts he wanted to put through.
First up we had some weird looking fella, He looked like a cross between an anorexic Alan Carr and Lurch from the Addam's family. The tool couldn't even speak with a good tone to his voice, he sounded like he constantly was on the verge of pissing his pants and it really made me hope that he'd get hit by a falling satellite (1 in 14 trillion chance apparently). I have more chance of winning sympathetic caring superstar of the year award than he has winning X fucktor.
Oh deary me, next up with have Kitty Brucknell, If you've been a long term reader of my hate filled bile you'll know of my dislike of Katie Waissel and Cher Lloyd from the last series of this car crash television. Kitty looks set to become even more despised than the pair of them glued together.
She seems to think she's edgy, well if edgy is fake, rehearsed, calculated poorly timed publicity stunts then edgy she is. The other day when she auditioned to get into the final 4 Louis asked her "How do you feel it went?" She carefully took off her shoes and jumped into the swimming pool next to her without even answering the question she had been asked.
I prayed so hard that the cleaners had filled the pool with sulphuric acid or maybe some hungry great white sharks (not the one that ate that guys legs in South Africa, that'd just be ridiculous) or maybe that she had bricks in her pockets. Sadly it was not meant to be and she made it safely out of the other side and had a chat with Kermit O'Dreary. She is going to be in the live finals, she'll be protected by rule changes just like Katie Waissel and Cher 'Swagger Jagger wanker tanker' Lloyd so don't waste money voting to try and get her out. I just hope that her flashing leotard type affair malfunctions and electrocutes her.
Goldie - What the actual FUCK! She can't even speak let alone fucking sing! She is everything that an escaped mental patient should be. She's deluded to the point she could share a cell with some other crackerjack loon such as Martin Sheen. Goldie, you're batshit loopy and I worry about the state of world entertainment if people such as you are picked ahead of people that don't look like Zelda from the terrahawks.
I'm sure my anger levels will rise week in week out, but it's hard at this moment in time to imagine how. I hate this junk television with all of my heart, but for some reason can't help but watch bits of it, I think I just like punishing myself, but that's a whole different blog entry.
Have a nice night,
Dave.
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