Richard Kay

Well life in London has become pretty boring: work, run, pub and The Wire being the general order of things. In fact apart from various rumors involving footballers and failed drug tests, which may or may not come out in the press over the next week (YHIHF) my life has gone back to being unbelievably dull and monotonous, a bit like this blog! So anyway in a fug of angst I joined Twitter. I seem to feel a constant sense of panic that I'm missing out on modernity and technological revolution, so I start writing blogs and getting twittered up, living my life out in the technological stratosphere! Twitter is a good idea, in that you can, in many cases, stalk famous/talented people you admire/lust after and if they are sad enough to spend longer than 5 mins a week on it you can follow every boring meander of a day's eating, drinking and (in the case of Amando Iniucci) making amazing comedy television. The thing is its just like the application on Facebook where nobs write status updates like: 'Nick is feeling loose and eating apples.' Clearly as a general rule people who update their status pages on Facebook about anything other than football are generally fuckwits. All this suggests everyone on Twitter must be a flid, but ultimately they are not and its a lot less annoying seeing what Sven Vath and Newt Gingritch, to name but a few, are up to, than the class of 2002's prime wierdo is eating/fucking/watching/listening to. My first day enjoying 140 words of meaningless shite rather than writing a page of funny but lugubrious witticisms for my blog, saw me flicking through Twitter trying to find important celebrities and organisations that I either respect or despised. I found some heroes: Stephen Fry (Britain's most popular 'Twitterer'), London Electricity (wicked podcasts mate), Plastician (best dubstep dj in the world), The Guardian (beautiful champagne-socialist newspaper mostly read by guilty millionaires living in Hampstead and depressed teachers), Charlie Brooker (funny fucker) and of course FC United of Manchester. 

The original Manchester United went right down in my fucking estimations when they then immediately sent me a follower request from the fucking Megastore tweet pages. Truly they are a cancerous organization, and for me as a fan to say this is pretty depressing. Sadly a lot of other people I really hate had very 'unupdated' Twitter pages. I wanted to see how renegade flapjacks like N-Dubz, George Osbourne and Richard Littlejon manage to live with themselves. Do they eat normal food? Have friends? Ponder the reasoning behind their nasty characteristics? Or God forbid write blogs!?

One guy who really is a complete fuck and didn't even feature on Twitter was Richard Kay the Daily Mail columnist on all things royal, banal, petty, boring and cuntish. In a way his column is so nauseating its entertaining, and by the way the only time I ever see it is when my Grandma comes to stay and leaves her Daily Mail lying around. (Keep your enemies closer...blah blah blah!) Some might think Richard is a sort of soft and pointless target for my ire but this is a man who has for many, many years earned a very good living writing a completely shit column about minor royals and an odious 'elite' class of British people who go to Polo tournaments, have mental breakdowns and generally act like normal people would if they were inbred/worked in the city/went to an all boys public school or owned half of London. If anyone exemplifies the total drudgery and talentless baseness of modern, credit crunch Britain then surely it is this unbelievably boring shitebag.

Looking at some of the guff he has chosen to write about today (25/06/09) underlines the unbelievable amount of space his boring gossip wastes in a major national newspaper. Whilst innocent Iranian's are being shot in the streets of Tehran, the British Tax payer is being fleeced by its own government and Pakistan lies on the brink of Civil War with the Taliban this fuckhead is talking about John Nettles retiring from Midsummer Murders and Princess Michael of Kent air kissing Fergie at a charity bash. Seriously what the fuck?!!

The fact that many thousands of people obviously read and enjoy this pointless rubbish makes life feel a bit futile.  If you read and enjoy my pointless rubbish then that in part compensates for Richard's sad, lonely readers!

Until next week....mwah!

p.s oh and please could Wimbledon fuck, fuck, fuck right off...people in facepaint, women from the home counties screaming and loads of general cunts wondering around drunk on strawberries and Pimms, it is a cringeworthy event that seems to act as a magnet for people like Richard Kay and the tragic characters he stalks via his column.