Vappid

30 12 2007

This could be a long one, so I would suggest that you go pop the kettle on and find the packet of hob-nobs and settle in for at least 5 minuets of mind-numbing tedium entertainment.

I want to start off this rant about the cult of the ‘celebrity’. As some of you will be aware, the last few days has given rise to some of the best news of the year, forget the tragic death of Benosire Bhutto (which could well result in destabilising an already troubled country) or any other globally important issue that is always pushed to the side to make way for some ‘juicy’ little bit of ‘celebrity’ gossip. I really can’t understand why people find other people’s lives so interesting. I can understand if it’s a personal friend or family member, but are we spending huge amounts of our lives worrying about some has been z list celebrity and what they get up to in there personal lives? I have always made it clear; I really am not interested in celebrities. Monkey has now taken to stalking z-list-ers on facebook, its bad enough that he has followed Patsy Palmer round Waitrose and Julian Clarey around the local Tesco (the Pasty Palmer incident was last week, and spending 20 minuets in a packed Waitrose on the Saturday before Christmas following a former East Enders cast member around the bread section is something that I could well have done without.)

So it filled my little stoney heart to almost 1/16th full to see that Multi Billionaire Barron Hilton (yes that is his name) has become so pissed off with his wayward grand-daughter that he has changed his will. Yes, Grandfather Hilton has cut wastrel socialite Paris out of his will by giving away over 97% to charity. I had to give a sly chuckle, I mean what has she ever done to deserve that type of money (she would have had a share in a £1.3 billion fortune) could I forgive her for making the ‘naughty’ video? – possibly, could I have forgiven her for the D.U.I? – possibly, but I could never forgive her for making an album.

So why, you maybe asking, are you so relieved about this. Well, humble reader, it means that no matter how famous you are, even if you have no talent, no ability, no real personality, no matter how many time you ‘find’ god (whoops, there he is down the back of the sofa) your actions do have real consequences. While I can’t imagine that she will end up in a grotty bed-sit with mould growing on the walls, it will mean that the over privileged life style that she has become to embody will now have to be scaled back. Will we now find Paris doing infomercials on the late night shopping channel? Possibly not – although she will no doubt try to merchandise her name to within a cent of its worth.

Will she try and make a name for herself? Well she has tried acting (wooden), singing (poorly) and by being herself (both poorly and woodenly). So what else can she do? office cleaner? Call Centre monkey? Well these jobs can be done by anyone (yes even I have done both of these jobs) but they do take some level of competence something that I fear dear sweet Paris lacks.

While there is a little part of me that feels sorry for the little lamb, I feel that she and her ilk have given rise to the status of the under achieving woman. She has spawned the idea that you can now be famous just for being a no-one. I’m sorry but that is a really hideous and crassly stupid idea. We now have a generation of teenage (and even sadder, pre-teen) girls believing that you don’t need to have a brain or work ethic to get ahead. You just have to look at things like Pop Idol, Big Brother and the like. People who have NO talent, NO experience and NO ability, believe that just because that have it in their minds that they should be famous. I have to stress, I have real admiration for those people who have put the effort, work and practice into being a singer/actor/model/dancer, its hard work and if you make it you disserve all that you get. But in the modern age of rewarding mediocrity we have lost site of the effort and work that is required to get ahead.

I really hope that for my two little nieces (Evie 3 and a bit and Eliza almost 1) that when they grow up they look at their real role models, their mother, their grandmothers, their great grandmothers, hell they could even look at me as a role model (something which I think I could, given lots of encouragement and used fiver’s, get used to.). I would like them to be writers, doctors, professional dancers, vets, pilots, leaders of there own dictatorships (trust me if they look up to there mother that could happen!) I want them to have a sense of pride of the job that they do. I would NOT want them looking up to some wafer thin bint, who has not real talent and has spent no time gaining the talent that the media has thrust upon them.

I feel better now that it’s off my chest

Normal service will resume shortly

sf xxx





Lifes a bitch and then you die!

13 07 2007

Well what can I say that is going to be witty and deeply thoughtful. Its been weighing on my mind over the last year so now seams as good a moment as any to tell you, the kind readers of this blog about something terrible, yet something that I know has been coming since this time last year….. I turn 30.

I know that it doesn’t sound like much, but it does sort of scare me, not because I fear losing my hair (already happened), becoming fat (I’m on that slippery slope already) or not being able to use a young persons railcard; but more because I haven’t done half the things that I want to have achieved. I, like many people, write those bloody “things I must do buy the time I turn 30” lists. My things included all sorts of stupid, weird and dangerous things, and having looked back on the things that I have done over the last 10 years it make me wonder if I have it in me.

 But that’s not the thing that worries me the most, the last (very last) thing that I wrote on the list was that I would start my pension. It depresses me that while I am still in the last dying throws of my “youth” I have to start thinking about getting old(er). I have no idea if I will be around in 20 years time, going by the rest of the males in my family this option looks rather dubious (my father died of a massive heart attack when he turned 48, my fathers dad died when he was 55 and if the rumours are true my great grandfather died when he was 56). With the male line dying off at ever younger ages how many more years will I have left (knowing my luck I will keel over 10 Min’s after winning the lottery) will I die and leave a good looking corpse (ha ha ha! good one!). So you can see the issue that I have with turning 30, its not so much all the things that I am loosing (youth, beauty, my hair) but all the things that I was stupid not to have done.

 Well I will grasp the bull by the horns (metaphorical, good vegan boy here!) and think about, looking into possibly doing some of those things. Or shall I admit defeat and book an appointment with the co-op to come round and measure me for a wooden box? Curse my indecisiveness, I think?.

 So what other things can I dump onto you (I use this blog a bit like a therapist, but its not metred and I can waffle on and on with out having to worry about taking out loan….. no wait, come back….. I’m sorry…. I will not talk about me….. I can change… honest…  

With love

 SF xxx





Shut it slagggggggg…

18 05 2007

I personally like to think that all this hard work may well lead to better money (hey a six figured pay packet isn’t out of the question you know!) but with all that I am doing at the mo, it just feels like I’m doing a hell of a lot for very little money. I’m not someone who wants to buy loads of “shinny” things or even spend it on drink, drugs and lose men (a chance would be a fine thing).  

I love my job, please don’t get me wrong, there are so few jobs out there where looking at porn (all be it soft core heterosexual porn) would take up a good part of a Monday morning? Its just the amount of money that I’m being paid…. I have been seeking other jobs and the sort of cash that they are offering someone with half the skills set is mind blowing – 28.5K just for a number crunching marketing exec, its criminal, and 45K for a marketing manager’s job (just like mine, but over 20K more than I’m being paid at the mo!).  

WARNING – inner monologue about to start, just like the ones you see on oh so many American sit-coms **SF, stop moaning, you LOVE your job. You love the people that you work with, even the two lazy ones who do very little work and hate doing anything that you ask them! Just realise that you are a fucking lazy arse who would rather sit back and moan that get off those dimpled buns of yours and do something about it. So SF, shut it Bea-atch and sit back and enjoy the ride…**  Whew, that goodness that’s over Onwards proud beauty 

SF xxx