Me, Myself and I don't know why I bother

 

I'm not going to lie, I'm running out of ideas for stuff to say. In that case I'm going to moan about myself now. I'm not going to attempt to ever claim that I the peak of human appearance, physique or fitness. My greatest claim is that I'm reasonably tall (6ft ish) and that I have an ideal bmi... not the best claim. I can't say either that I am academically gifted, well kind of, I got into sixth form and I was once in 'gifted and talented'. Yeah, I know, ooh, well it isn’t ooh. Technically I was in it but I only ever knew about it until late in year 11. As far as I'm aware we only ever did one thing and that was a waste of time.

I have a knack for procrastination, I even manage to put this off. I'm very good at this at school, not listening much to teachers (only sometimes, don't think I'm completely stupid, I'm a goody two-shoes at heart). When I don't have a lesson I do my utmost to keep myself entertained without having to resort to working, or I find food to eat (although what else would I do food rather than eat it? Sit and watch it slowly decay as though I was dog watching a cat through a window). My excuse for this could be that I'm preparing for university life where being lazy or a drunken adolescent is essential. The only problem with that is that there is a certain level of effort needs to be put in to achieve this beginning year of laziness.

As I write this I'm suffering from the debilitating illness of man flu, or the beginnings of it. Now I know that roughly half the population know of the feeling of this disease. I also know that the other half constantly moan about us moaning about it. I'm not going to say too much about it but this is a problem that will continue to damage the economy as companies are destroyed as workers can't make their way into work as as they have been savagely struck down by the hand of fate by the cruel illness of man flu.

I'm not in perfect knick anyway, my knees are a bit dodgy, I'm ill (as you know by now), I get tired early my thumbs and little fingers get a bit stiff when its a little cold. I'm 17, all this would barely be acceptable for 43 year old stone mason (I don't know why my example needs a profession but it has one, so deal with it) . Now I've only just realised that that my fingers are becoming a bit fragile, I was doing up my shoe laces and my little finger felt as though it locked up like a wrongly accused criminal being locked up in Alcatraz. I thought that my finger would snap like a thin twig in a strong breeze. But it didn’t, and I feel like a wimp, and now I sound like a wimp. Oh well, its not like I care really.

Back to life, back to reality TV

There is no time for pleasantries, the subject in which I am going to talk is one of immense annoyance to many people. It is simply this, reality TV “stars”. There are no “stars” in reality TV, only people who are idiots and are so idiotic that being on TV (or magic colour boxes, as these imbeciles call it) has gone to their head in this misconstrued image fame. Everyone knows that people only like reality TV because the people are idiots, whereas the idiots think it's their personality that make them popular on the box. Now I think there's two types of reality TV, there's documentary style, where, for example, a family is followed over a period of time. That's fine, boring usually yes, but fine. But then there's exhibit B, house style. When I say house I mean fame wannabes that are all shoved into a oddly furnished building where every single movement they make is monitored and then broadcast. Surprisingly I'm angrier at the people who watch the house muck. Shows like 'Big Brother, 'Geordie Shore' and 'The Only Way is Essex'. I have different versions of the names of these shows, firstly 'Big Brother' to 'Why Bother?', 'Geordie Shore' to 'Geordie Whores' and 'The Only Way is Essex' to 'I'd Rather Be in Yorkshire'.

I can sometimes see the attraction of these shows, to me it's like looking down on the lower classes and laughing myself to death, which would be convenient because occasionally death is the better option when faced the choice between death and Geordie Shore. I'm hoping that so far you're agreeing with me. What do I mean hope? I'm right. You have to agree. Right?

I can understand why my point is as valid as an obese child moaning about his weight whilst digging into a Big Mac. I don't even watch these shows, I don't want to watch these shows. I only ever see the ads for them, which only boosts my levels of anger towards these shows. The people on the shows anger me the most though, this needs reiterating. These people will do these shows and be mocked nationally, as a career. This 'career' will get them through a surprising number of years, appearing on other muck such as 'I'm a celebrity, get me out of here'. If they were a proper celebrity then they wouldn’t need to boost their 'career' on this pointless show. They should start the show, give up after three nights then leave Australia and the 'celebrities' behind them. And when you think about it, if they were a proper celebrity them they would be hosting the show, not appearing on it.

Rant over. I started with no greeting, but I shall leave you with this quote from a man called Morley Safer, “Reality TV is sleazy, it is manipulative. It is as momentary as anything in popular culture.”

Goodbye.

Adrian Chiles!!!

Hello, hey, sup', bonjour, hola, and hello again. Can I say that is probably the best of my language skills. Back to what I've been talking about. I started the theme of TV and I can think of another thing on TV that annoys me. That comes in handy when I need to write something. There's no easy way to break this, its the football on TV these days. When I say break it, I mean to myself. It's more of a realisation than breaking it. I say this as I love football. I love it as much as some people love Harry Potter and as much as some people love The Doctor. Now I'm here to have a go at football on TV and not Doctor Who or Harry Potter, which I also love, well loves strong so it's more like a gentle affection.

OK, back to the matter in hand, oh yes the football. And again I must reiterate that I'm not having a go at this noble and grand sport, it's the way in which it's presented. My biggest disapproval of it is mostly just Adrian Chiles. This fat, West Brom supporting, midlander has now ruined ITV's coverage of any football game they broadcast. ITV wasn't very good in the first place so kudos to them on their triumphant broadcasting of this rotund man. They get some of the good competitions as well, they get England international games, champions league, FA cup and then some of the World cup when it comes around. Even with these fantastic games they still muck it all up with Adrian Chiles' squidgy round face, making jokes that aren't funny. He's not even on the screen very long but he still angers me. Actually he doesn't need to be on the screen, just the thought of him makes me want to throw the remote at the TV, leave the room in a huff, stroll around the rest of the house in an untamed urge to be manly and hit something again, get some food because I will undoubtedly be hungry, be sick whilst eating as the nauseous image of Adrian Chiles has come back into my mind like a love sick dog who wont stop humping your leg, then sit down again and forget why I was angry in the first place. The cycle could easily happen again as I would turn the TV back on, that is if the remote didn't break the screen when I first through it.

I’ll admit that reaction is very much over the top, but it roughly conveys my thoughts, I think, I'm sure any more. My mind did wander a bit. This wasn't an attack on this grand game of all games. It wasn't even really an attack on broadcasters, it was just a mindless assault on Adrian Chiles. I'm not going to deny it, so I wont.

Goodbye, bye, see ya, now buggar off.