Well another series of Big Brother is just as crap and full of non entities as the other 6 series were. Which all lends weight to my theory , (By Anne Elk that's A.N.N.E Elk not An Elk) that all celebrities are as dull as the rest of us they just have better teeth. Why mags and tabloid papers are full of these knobs going to some premiere or other is beyond me. we all go to the cinema we just don't have a thousand photographers shouting our names to look this way whilst they all snap the same 12 frames of the latest dumb ass to turn up wearing a dress made up of three handkerchiefs and some string. And they follow them around the streets now taking pictures of the shlebs going to do the shopping. I'm not actually sure that a shot of some actress going to buy some oven chips from Iceland is worth the effort of reading the women's mags (can you tell I've been to the local laundromat and forgot my book again?) I don't think for a minute that Gwyneth Paltrow et al actually go to Iceland's frozen food emporium and buy frozen mini chicken kievs on a two for one offer ... they'd probably get them from Harrods or somewhere.
I'm not sure of whom I'm more annoyed at for all these papparazzi photos, the paperrazzi themselves or the shlebs for playing the game? After all no one forced them into the selling your under talented arse for the big screen, you wanted to be loved because you are an insecure little person just like the rest of us only we have the fortitude to get up every morning and schlep our way into a job we hate because that's the real world (can you tell I've got to go back to work tomorrow?) I was reading that an actor had to get up at 4 in the morning to sit through make up and start shooting and how tough it was etc etc, hmm and only the million of dollars to console themselves with too. Six months work on a film try doing it for minimum wages for years I hate film stars I may have mentioned once or twice?
Only six more weeks and I can go and take a dump on my bank manager's desk because after nearly sixteen years I am nearly out of debt. I can finally afford the little things in life like shoes,eating, breathing etc. Big fuck off sized cake for all my friends when I do pay off the final payment (possibly just a six pack of Kipling's mini victoria sponges then in that case). It's been long and hard but not in a good way but I'll finally stop having to steal my landlord's gold teeth (actually they are wood as he's so cheap). In fact I can also stop stealing bread as unfortunately you don't actually get deprted to Australia for that anymore ... as I found out. Dammit.
Anyway tonights postings are 25 Elastica bootlegs and the original radio adaptaions of Star Wars. I thought it would make a change from all the Ian Dury (more later if you want it?) and that's the end of all that bollocks as it's hot enough to boil a monkey's bum here in 'dear' old blighty. Even hotter tomorrow oh good that'll drive all those sweaty fat men in vests into my shop. ick. There's a distinct lack of yummy mummies at the moment as they all seem to be down the beach which is a shame as I can't see them from my department.