I've just been catching up with the first in the new series of Have I Got News for You. guest panellists, a pair of nobodies, who it seems, have achieved nothing in their lives, except fifteen minutes of fame on the TV.
Different people have different views of Blunkett the man, Blunkett the politician. Not the point of this post.
Apaprently, lacking the intellectual capacity to analyse the man's politics, it's fair game to take cheap potshots at his disability. And that of Stephen Hawking, too. Well done, Paul Merton, you fell in my estimation by quite a way.
One assumes that these vile little self-obsessed creatures have never had any difficulties in their sex lives. If that piece of shit alongside Hislop ever suffers any disablement remind me to send him a congratulations card full of gloating. Except that he was so singularly inept I really couldn't be bothered to note his name. I understand he was from some downmarket tabloid. Star, I think. Vile piece of shit.
So, the audience thought it appropriate to laugh at his jokes about Blunkett's guide dogs, and yet hissed Hislop when he called that estate agent a Slapper. Well done, children, for operating in amoral vacuum.
Can I ask a question, honest answers? If you have ever had a sexual relationship with anyone famous, infamous, C-list famous or not even that obscure, have you ever publicised that for money? Sure, I've read allusions on blogs to people and their passing fling with someone who went onto be famous. But, have you ever gone straight to Max Clifford for the sole purpose of money and, er, publicising one's singing career?
Jimmy says that someone was on the Andrew Marr show this morning. I was still in bed, obviously. According to Jimmy, this person said that everyone between twenty and sixty takes drugs. They weren't talking alcohol, nicotine, cigarettes but drugs that are, rightly or wrongly but factually, illegal.
Does this just confirm that the entire media is entirely up is own arse in a coke-induced stupour and is just further evidence that we should, as a nation, resolve entirely to pay them no attention whatsoever, whilst getting on with our useful lives and letting them screw up their overpaid futile existence?
I mean come on, what the fuck do these tossposts actually know. Most people I know between twenty and sixty are either carefully balancing
a budgetthat will enable four or five people on one-and-half incomes to pay the bils, buy food and clothes, run a car or two, have a holiday or two etc; or are fitness fanatics preparing for a half-marathon; or so scared of losing control they won't even go on a roller coaster; or health freaks who will barely touch alcohol and eat only salad as part of their fad diets; or religious nuts who regard drugs as immoral; or world-weary people who've witnessed too many other people's lives destroyed by drugs.
Thinking about it, it's suddently occurred to me that I'm a heavy coke user. Or at least, a typical coke user. I'm sixteen months younger than David Cameron, but unlike him, I have no children. I am statistically a high earner. I'm urban, living in an area so synonymous with drug use that the spoilt brats of Surrey and North London come here as Drugs Tourists. I'm a former high-achiever who's slipped into easy complacency. I know exactly who to phone in order to get an evening or weekend's supply of coke, nod and a wink, no questions asked. My own personal Dealer, you might say. I'm far from being a health freak, caring little about my diet and less about exercise, a heavy user of legal drugs.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce: I am a typical cocaine addict.
With just one detail worth noting. I've never taken cocaine in my life. But, otherwise, you may as well assume I spend every Saturday night snorting a good few lines...
