…one more.
… and, of course, if you want to know what it’s like to go on tour with your favourite band, you can check out my tour diaries on http://sucioperro.com/hs/blog/
Where You can Find Me, Aside From Under Your Bed.
Unlike a few people I talked to yesterday I have decided if George Lucas was on fire I would definitely piss on him. I wouldn’t let his grotesque nature and terrible ideas ruin my chance of getting to piss on him.
Drinking. Smoking. Writing. Part 1.
I never used to write when wrecked. But in the interest of seeing if it works I tried. Quite recently I did something truly life changing and it made me question the mocking of celebrities and my writing in general. Indulge me for a moment.
The problem I have come to have with writing about celebrity is the level in which I have to give a fuck about the celebrities I wish to mock. The real crux of this matter however is the fact that I feel I have to mock celebrities. Equally, the mocking of celebrities is something that happens in real life, and if you believe Mark Zuckerburg, real life and the internet somehow belong together. So if you really look at it, there is no real issue with writing about celebrities on the internet because we talk about them in real life - see?
The celebs up for mocking have done something worth mocking, it’s not just random meaningless attacks borne of jealousy and self loathing, it is - from my point of view anyway - an attempt to promote having class, a little taste. The positive press surrounding these people is never questioned even although it is far more sinister. The conditioning of children is no new thing. Every generation had their own special conditioning, through tv we were offered entertainment in exchange for our time, a vast majority of people love nothing more than sitting for extended periods of time so it was always going to catch on. The problem is that the people who constitute todays role models (for want of a more suitable and less paradoxical term) are terrible choices. Truly terrible. The worst possible people ever offered to children by the mainstream television networks, back when your options were two cunts made out of plant pots who talked total pish or a book, you chose the TV and it didn’t fucking matter, now when the child buys into a TV show they are buying into someone else life, they watch rich idiots live out pretend lives that they swear to you, the person paying for this shit, that it’s legit. When it is far from legit. So Kim Kardashian wears a pair of shoes, all of a sudden people are losing their minds and wanting those shoes. Selling shit to buy those shoes so that she can go up to other idiots and say “do you like my shoes? Yeah, they’re the same ones Kim had on YESTERDAY!!!” And all the idiots around her feel genuine jealousy.
This is celebrity now. And I think I’m going to have to get used to it. The dumber and more made up the more the public want it. People who watch Kardashians or TOWIE or any of these shows which pretend to follow the real lives of some vacuous creatures must live the most terrifyingly boring lives. I don’t want that to sound insulting, but I guess it does. The reaction of someone reading that who likes those shows might be to immediately think I am some jealous wannabe reality tv star, but I’m not. I just want to point out how shite your life must be if the exploits of Amy Childs appeals to you. That’s all.
However bad shows like the Kardashian Kunt’s show, shows like the X factor is one of the worst things to happen to the world. That is not an exaggeration. Fallout from it has started to spread, and last night I noticed something disturbing while watching a TV show called Alan Carr Chatty Man - which was great incidentally - and while Lady Gaga was singing the audience started to cheer crazily, something had impressed them and their reaction was to applaud, while the song was ongoing. Lady Gaga was still singing and they were cheering. For reasons best known to people in the X Factor audience they like to clap when someone sings a note, mainly high notes, the ability to sing high is a firm favourite of the audience. Just in case you ever want to audition for the show, sing a song made up of high bits from famous songs. A medley of climbs. Do that. In fact, here is a few tips for you if you want to be a performing monkey. Always looked surprised when anything happens. ’Was that a glass smashing on the floor?’ Look surprised. ’Did someone you claim to like just get voted off?’ Look surprised. Look upset. Back to surprised. Cry and shake your head like you’re surprised. At no point should you ever do the international motion for a phonecall as a way of begging for a phonecall, it’s cheap, nasty and unbecoming. Once you have sang your karaoke you should just stand there and listen to what the people who are in charge tell you to do, if they are telling you how they want you to be that means they are considering how to package you. ”Package you” is to record execs what “Sign you” is to you. It’s a good thing if you are on the show, it’s a terrible thing in real life. But this is on TV, so it’s cool. Do what they say, knock it out the park. Boom! In the final. Look terrified, like you might be a flight risk, or you might not hit the notes, have the audience on the edge of their fucking seats. They don’t have to know that you’re only the regular level of nervous. Just another gig. But act it up. It will appear more impressive when you nail it.
I’ve just won you the X Factor. A million pound contract. One Million Pounds. For singing! Just singing, you just ripped these people off. You don’t have to write songs, you don’t have to play an instrument (although I won’t deny you your chance to pretend you do to try and look cool) you go straight to the big time. No fucking about on the toilet tour learning valuable lessons both artistically and socially, and bonding with the people you will have behind you at the good gigs and the ones where you forget your place or your words. But that won’t last forever, if you don’t start nailing that quickly you’ll know all about it. You might lose that Million Pound Contract, the money side of which is already practically all gone the moment you sign it. Most don’t know this going in, but you should look at the “prize” more like a “debt”. Your rise to national and potentially - however unlikely - international superstardom has to be paid for, and that’s where your prize money comes into play.
The phone votes is the true bit of genius in the equation. Years ago people like Simon Cowell would have put money into an act with no knowing just how the record buying public will react. Now there is no doubt, the public have already voted. They want Alexandra Burke, Leona Lewis, Fucky McFuckity, Baws Vagcuntsack. I don’t know who else has won it. Well, that’s not true. I remember Leon Jackson, but I might be the only person. By some strange mutation in my brain I have managed to keep not only his name but also his face in my mind. I remember hating him a lot more than the others, whoever they were, his fucking pish patter. MAMUM. It’s ‘My Mum’, you imbecile! The public changed their mind with Leon Jackson, first they were like “Aye, we like him, we would like him to sing this years batch of songs that already exist elsewhere.” Then they were like “Naw, you know what. I’m over him.” Almost overnight. I assume he did something that I can’t remember.
The money is gobbled up by the cost of the massive free ride you are on. You get a massive stage every night of the long tour you go on. You are an instant superstar. People who have worked at music for years, creating some of the best music this country has ever produced, never played to this many people. But fuck them. They didn’t sing at karaoke every Wednesday in their entire adult life. Their sob story was only one of abject poverty and lonliness. Rejection, drugs and relentless masterbation. You told a guy with a clip board a sad memory in your mind knowing from watching the show religiously that they would bring it up. You know that these people will use this story as a way to con people out of their money, yet you still let it happen. Using The Memory Of A Dead Relative To Con Your Way To Superstardom-Factor. That wouldn’t fit on your childrens school bag though would it? It’s a fucking sham of a show. By allowing it on the TV we have let this shit become legit, I try to keep track of all the cunts I won’t give my time to, the ones who came off of TV shows, fuck them. They have nothing to offer me, dull, lifeless nonsense. No vibe, and vibe is important. Often vibe is all you need, some people have crafted incredible careers out of vibe alone.
Simon Cowell is the JFK conspiracy of the whole thing, in the sense that it seems almost idiotic to bring him up. So I guess I won’t. Except for just there. I’ll say one thing, he’s a cunt. A massive cunt. But only in the sense that he’s a record exec. Which isn’t the worst type of cunt. He’s a record exec. He has to be a cunt. I can only imagine over a drink he would be a decent guy. Or at least that’s what I’d make him think I thought in order to get close enough to bleed him.
I jest, I wouldn’t kill Simon Cowell. Why would I do that? There are people on this planet more deserving to die than he. But apparently I don’t get to make those decisions. Had I been born in another country at another time I may have been a dictator. But I am from Scotland, a notoriously difficult country to seize control of. Many have tried, all have failed. Except the SNP, they seem to have a good handle on it. But in an historic sense it is a quick way to a nasty death. Look at the romans, the 9th in particular. The 9th Legion came across the border to try and take the land in the name of Caesar, the ones who didn’t surrender and join the clans were eaten. Mystery of the 9th legion solved. They were eaten. And rightly so. Not to mention what happened when some tits tried to bring their Jihad to Glasgow. In terms of Bad Ideas, not many can hold a light up to getting between Glaswegians and their summer holidays. Scotland isn’t afraid of some cunts whose big idea was to set themselves on fire, we have our own Dumb As Fuck Religious Fanatics, they wear either red white and blue or green and white.
Sure Simon Cowell could be seen as a driving force in the destruction of the music industry, a man who promotes mediocrity. But at the same time, as it is in every walk of life, there are a tremendous number of imbeciles in this country. A tremendous number, and they drive this system. Cowell is just giving them what they want, and what they want is really souless, shite and at times offensive versions of decent songs. I don’t really mind the idea of a karaoke tv competition, it is nothing new, but I would rather it wasn’t taken so seriously.
I find Skype utterly pointless just now. Which is only made worse by the fact that I get requests from folk I know that I probably wouldn’t talk to on the phone and more than likely would try not to talk to in real life. I don’t know if it’s just that I haven’t figured it out yet…
henryhunter777
I think I should broaden my horizons. And now that I have random (unknown to me)people sending me drugs through the actual post, I might as well make public a thing I don’t really use.
I would also like to say that I don’t believe the Thanksgiving Story. Largely because I know what shite things white people will do when they want something that belongs to someone else.
Happy Eat Native Americans Day.
Teen Crim Tells Victims To Go Fuck Themselves.
I awoke today to the dull, droning pish that is the BBC News. I had left my TV on, like I do most nights, but I usually have more taste, I think I had been trying to keep up with the NOTW inquiry. Obviously it was riveting because I passed out. Although that may have had something to do with the “letter” I received from Netherlands.
The BBC presenter, or “newsreader” as they once were rightfully known was getting all twisted out of shape over a letter sent from a burglar to the victim of the crime which saw him jailed.
The 16 year old basically calls the victims stupid for leaving their kitchen window open, and not drawing their curtains. He points out that the victim lived in a bad neighborhood and that he would never be so stupid to leave the window open for everyone and everyone to size up their possessions.
Naturally this letter has pissed off a lot of people, and I can see why. However, I can’t help but agree with the thieving little cunt. His existence is no less pointless, and his spelling is worse than mine, but as he states in the opening line, he was forced into writing a letter of apology. He states as a matter of fact that he is not sorry.
I don’t agree with his nonsensical ramblings that these people were stupid to be living in a particular place, but if they knew how bad that place was I can agree that they were stupid to leave windows open. But mistakes can be made.
My point, if I have one, is that getting all bent out of shape because a criminal refuses to apologise via letter to someone he ripped off is so fucking daft. The problem isn’t that this wee arsehole wrote a particularly funny letter, the problem is that the letter highlights the glaring problems with jails in this country. Now I am not, nor ever will be someone who complains about human rights because that is a sure sign that you are a fucking idiot. I am a human, therefore I am completely for human rights, but I’m guessing prison wasn’t too much of an inconvenience to him.
The letter makes some good points, that going to jail in no way helps how much of an illiterate fuck you are, when it should. It in no way rehabilitates you, which it should, and some folk are just careless. It is no joke that some people have it better inside than out. I wouldn’t like to find out, but if you get fed thrice daily and you have a bed every night, and you only have to deal with the occasional beating and try not to get raped, I can see why some are not scared of jail. Like it or not, people like this little cunt do exist and they prey on the weak.
So, what would I do about it?
I say we make reality TV out of it. These wee hard men who like to sneak about peoples houses like perverts, stealing shit people may have worked hard for, I say we turn jails in to a sort of Fight Club. First every jail holds it’s own Fight Club, once a champion has been decided from each separate jail, we have a nationwide tournament. All fights should take place in a cage, anything goes. The only way to opt out of these Fights To The Death would be to make an actual attempt to become rehabilitated, learn a trade, sit exams, help out in general. If you want to just coast through jail until you get released and start back at the criminal ways, then you have to fight, and maybe die. It would make the country far more interesting and it would merge two things I find “cunty”. Reality TV and criminals.
Join My Campaign To Take The Vote Back.
Now, this may seem a little insensitive, a little out of order even, but I think women shouldn’t be allowed to vote. I also think they shouldn’t be allowed to work - outside the house I mean, of course. Hoho. I may have no right to make the following statement, largely because I wasn’t alive, but I’ll say it anyway, because I’m a man… I think the world was a better place when women stayed in the house and didn’t vote. Men took care of the providing, women did as they were told. It was a good deal. What happened?
Now, today, in the year of our lord 2011, women can do almost anything they want. Drive cars, run companies, own a phone on which they can phone their husband and tell them what to make for dinner… They can even keep their name after getting married. It’s fucking madness. It’s like a parallel universe. If you want to know when the world started falling apart it was when women stopped being told what to do. Once they got their paws on things like the vote, jobs, cars and ideas above their station the world started going to shit. Men couldn’t take care of things anymore because women wouldn’t let them. ”let me do it…” one of them probably said at some point.
It isn’t too late though. It isn’t too late at all. Us men, we can still take the power back and maybe save the world a little.
Do you know the percentage of houses with no permanent women inside? It’s like 99% or something. Almost all the women are out doing something when they should be cleaning and cooking and taking care of the husbands needs.
Who is to blame? Other than women of course. Well, I blame the media and all the female singers. Female singers do more damage to the world than anyone, particularly when they sing their popular songs about being independent women, or asking What We’ve Done For Them lately. I do like women, but don’t fucking tell me to put a ring on it. I’ll put a ring on it once you’ve cleaned the house and made my dinner.
What have women ever done anyway? I can’t think of one important woman. Hilary Clinton? Adele? Halle Berry? I don’t think so. I can’t think of any more women who do anything. 3! There are only 3 women doing anything, that proves they shouldn’t be allowed to do anything other than housework. There’s literally tens of men doing things of major importance right now. And only 3 women? They should be ashamed of themselves. What kind of world is this? This is madness? I think the military should step in. The Government are failing us. They let women do whatever they want because they’re scared of the PC Brigade citing equality and all that nonsense. This world has gone PC daft, this country in particular. I miss the days when tea was on the table after a hard day of work. Again, I wasn’t alive, but I miss those days. Even although I wasn’t alive.
If we men don’t do anything soon women will be in charge of everything and men will be expected to perform womens tasks more so than we already are. Something must be done. Join my campaign to take the vote from women, because that’s where all the trouble started.
Breaking News: Winter Is Cold.
I haven’t been on here in ages. But I thought it would be the best place to do what I’m about to do, which is save lives. Which is important.
In a global sense, I don’t know many of you, and statistically I probably wouldn’t get on with many of you either. Which is both our faults. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to look out for you. You see, despite the many differences that have been created by shadows to keep us apart… We are all exactly the same. Some of us are slightly more toned and handsome though.
Anyway, I digress.
This is, in essence, a public service announcement, and like any public service announcement, I am trying to save lives. I don’t expect anything in return. I am a selfless human who only wishes to be left alone.
It is already October, which means soon the Winter will be here. Some places sooner than others, I’d give it one more week here in Scotland before the frost arrives.
But we shouldn’t panic. If you have been alive a while, you must have noticed the pattern. Generally speaking, after Autumn - or Fall depending on your geographical location - comes Winter. This happens EVERY SINGLE YEAR.
Winter, for those not paying attention is a fairly cold season, the coldest season actually. So don’t worry… That white stuff that covers your world, that you used to think was picturesque, that’s called frost. Sometimes it’s called Ice. Ice, by it’s very nature is a slippery bugger, so you should watch your feet. Walk slowly, which will not only save your bones, it will also give you a chance to take in the awesome beauty of a winter landscape.
The other white stuff, the softer, more fun and versatile substance is snow… Remember the stuff you longed for when you were a kid… It’s the same stuff. And it is still as much fun.
You can build things out of it, or ball it up and throw it at people. If you are a real crazy cat you can get a bit of plastic, sit on it and go down a hill. It’s called sledging. You used to look forward to it.
You have no excuse now. I have given you fair warning, you hopefully won’t be too shocked when that bastard white stuff falls on you… Stopping you getting to your job, or school. The Horror! The Horror!
It’s going to be cold, we know it’s going to be cold. It’s fucking winter. Don’t listen to the news. If you get a day off work because of the snow, count yourself lucky. Go out and enjoy it. Because before long you’re going to be bitching that the summer is too hot.
Henry Hunter.
Ghosts Are Not The Issue, Jordan.
I am here to put glamour model Jordan’s fears to rest. The fuck ugly, ignorant bastard has revealed that she is scared to move into her new home, with her new man and terribly annoying children including the ironically named Princess.
The reason she is scared to move into the massive property is that she is scared of ghosts, and she is convinced the house is haunted. I assume this has nothing to do with gaining more publicity and another slot on Ghost Hunters. With that theory disregarded, she must believe the house is haunted.
I am here to help her though. I may say terrible things about her, depending on how you look at it. But I am willing to put my justified distaste for this rancid slag aside to help her with her problem.
Ghosts don’t exist Ms Price. They don’t, there is no firm evidence of them, the 21st century and all its cameras have yet to film definitive evidence of a ghost. So what is spooking Jordan? Nothing. It is simply her losing her mind.
Seeing ghosts, or hearing voices is a sign of madness. All 5 senses are affected with schizophrenia, all the drugs and partying mixed with one of the largest recorded egos in the history of the human race has caused her mind to unravel and as a result she is convinced her house is haunted. Strange that, her house. Not the streets, or her less famous mates houses… Her house, a new one at that. Hold the front page.
I hope it isn’t madness actually, I hope in this case ghosts do exist. I hope that the angriest, most dangerous kind of poltergeist is stalking her, readying itself for attack… When she least expects it. But if one positive has come from her being a despicably egotistical bastard, with all those cameras on her, the ghosts won’t bother her because after what seems like an eternity of charlatans like Derek Acorah taking up valuable space on TV what have we learned? Ghosts don’t want to be caught on tape.
If only half-plastic, annoying as fuck topless models would take a leaf out of the ghosts book and stay away from cameras then I wouldn’t have to look her mug first thing on a Sunday morning.
And while we are on the subject, she should let the Frankie Boyle thing go… Who really gives a fuck. The number of people who actually complained at the time compared to the number of people who are “disgusted” or “insulted” by the “vile” jokes now don’t really add up. Stop letting the media control your thoughts… You might get on a little better. If you don’t like what stand up comedians have to say about vacuous cretins like Jordan, then don’t watch stand up comedy… Just tune into whatever uninteresting, ego-driven tripe that big titted talentless bastard is airing just now… It’s the same fucking program every time! The only thing that changes is the fucking idiot on her arm.
