Monthly Archives: October 2012

How To Get Famous… In a Flash

In a society where stupidity is a commodity, money equals success and Joey Essex continues to be allowed to exist as an actual human being, fame is the ultimate prize. For the majority, fame is perceived as a doorway to excitement, fulfilment and acceptance, and more than ever, individuals are willing to do anything to achieve it.

Back in the days of yore, one would have to possess actual talent, drive and commitment, not to mention experience, in order to achieve notoriety in their field- fame being an unwanted by-product of their success. It took years to become famous. Nowadays, the general consensus seems to be that achieving fame should take twelve weeks- tops. And they’ll throw in a Christmas Number 1 for good measure.

But what if, like me, you don’t have twelve weeks, a sob story and a penchant for living in a house full of unbearable tosspots while the Daily Mail prints a tell-all about the time you got your first period, after which you gain public sympathy and later develop a drug problem to deal with the shame? All of that seems like awful hard work. So here are my top tips for getting famous… in a flash.

Get Heckled By Builders

If you’re a lady or a feminine-looking gentleman, you can get heckled by builders to satisfy those feelings of love that your father didn’t give you. It’s easy, all you need is a slaggy dress and a cigarette- hey presto, those men will be heckling you like you’re a worthless slag in no time. Don’t forget to fake a look of disgust after being heckled- it tells other pedestrians that you feel humiliated and violated, even if you coughed loudly beside the construction site to get the builders’ attention in the first place.

Sign Everything Like A Starlet

In my mundane day-to-day life, I sign things constantly. Mostly for deliveries from Matalan and other drabocities. But with some added pizazz, I can feel like I’m signing autographs quicker than you can say ‘Go fuck yourself, you weird bitch’. For example, when your shopping arrives from Sainsbury’s and the delivery man hands you his little electronic pad for you to sign so that they can charge you, say, ‘Ok, who should I make this out to?‘ When he looks confused, laugh lightly and say, ‘You’re starstuck, eh? Don’t worry, I get this all the time.’ Remember, when signing your name, add ‘Best wishes’ or ‘To my number one fan’. Hand back the pad and say something like, ‘Stay cool, Daddio’ and give him a thumbs-up. Nice.

Deluded Yourself. In General.

One thing I’ve noticed is that, when it comes to reality TV, the arsehole subject matter usual spends their time creating situations where they can just act like a total cunt for laughs- much like a naughty, attention-seeking child whose mother is too disinterested in to disipline. With that in mind, make like the Kardashians and just walk around being ‘crazy’ for laughs. Don’t get a trolley in Asda– deprive someone with an actual disability of a mobility scooter and use that to knock down displays while unintentionally making it obvious that you’re looking at the camera and laughing nervously.

Likewise, in social situations- don’t be pleasant and polite. Take a pregnancy test in your place of work while crying profusely, even though you know you aren’t pregnant. Film a one-night stand with your second cousin and play it back to your family for a laugh. Bring an inappropriate family member to your bikini-wax appointment and make your beautician uncomfortable while they rate your bare arse out of ten. Don’t forget to conclude such events by discussing them in terms of the ‘Peak’ and ‘Pit’ of your day- making reference to your father’s demise at length so that you can capitalise on his death.

See Yourself As A Star- And Others Will Follow

It’s not good enough to act like you’re famous- others have to belbe in on the act for you to live your life in absolute denial. It’s the little things like answering every phonecall you receive with, ‘Hi, this is [your name]- thank you so much for voting for me. You rock! This is an automated message- you have been charged £5 plus your standard call rate for this call,’ and then hanging up, to insisting upon wearing sunglasses in nightclub photographs with friends (remember to look awkward and as though you’re gracing them with your presence), and even having a man with a Geordie accent floating around occasionally to narrate your life (‘Sally is having an affair with her brother-in-law just to convince herself she isn’t dead inside’, ‘Sally accidentally gave her nephew peanuts after temporarily forgetting his allergy and is currently in an ambulance with him. She’s going to tell her sister that he stole them from the cupboard and she saved his life to cover up the fact that she nearly killed him’. Yes, Sally’s life seems dramatic, but remember: some scenes have been set up purely for your entertainment).

Captivate Your Audience

Fame is all about the general public feigning interest in what you’re doing, so by rights, doing interesting things publicly should achieve fame. You can accomplish this easily by getting on a public bus and spouting some drivel about ‘Jesus‘ and ‘Judgement Day’ until you make small children cry because they’re frightened, and Shazam! Instant fame. This one is a lot easier if you smell like piss, cigarettes and whiskey because no-one is likely to forceably remove you from the bus for fear of getting your smell on their coat. Incidentally, should someone on that bus try to be a hero and remove you- just play dead, shouting ‘Rape!’ or ‘Fugggg off, bastid…’ weakly until you vomit all down your front. That should take care of it.

Have Talent, Motivation and The Ability To Excel In Your Chosen Field

Only joking. Kill your parrot and use your tears to soar through to X Factor Bootcamp. Yay!

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Diet of the Month- The Self-Loathing Diet

Usually, when I pick Diet of the Month, I choose something legitimate and well-publicised, but this month I wanted to do something a little bit different. In the coming months, I’m going to talk about a diet that we’ve all put our weary selves on at one point or another- the Self-Loathing Diet.

Unlike other, established diets, the Self-Loathing diet has only one rule- there are no rules. Apart from the rule about the no rules, but you get the point. On the Self-Loathing diet, anything goes.

The Self-Loathing diet is a long process of stages- each stage more painstaking and depressing than the last. In this post, I am going to talk about Phase 1 of the Self-Loathing Diet: Triggers. In later months, I’ll explore the other phases, such as Phase 2: Starving Your Bastard Self Until You Dry-Heave Air, Phase 3: Exercising Until You Faint or  Phase 4:The Realisation That You’d Rather Die Fat And Happy, Than Thin And Miserable.

Phase 1: Self-Loathing Diet Triggers

Discovering your jeans don’t zip up without having to use a clothes hanger to wedge yourself into them.

Unwrapping a birthday/Christmas present that you bought for someone else, and eating it while swearing you’ll replace it, then eating the replacement too.

Changing your Facebook settings to ensure you can review all tagged photos prior to them appearing on your Facebook wall, because you know you’ll look like Vanessa Feltz’s older, fatter grandmother in any pending pictures.

The only vegetables you eat are deep fried. And chips.

The checkout representative scanning your shopping gestures to your items and says, ‘Having a party, are we?’ and you’re not. You’re having a night in on your own.

You are congratulated on your pregnancy. So you have to spit out your cake to tell the bastard that you aren’t pregnant.

Your way of dealing with your insecurities about food is to cry while eating more food.

Your first thought when someone dies is ‘Great! An excuse to eat white bread.’

You walk into a Chinese Herbal Medicine shop and the shop assistant guides you towards the fat pills before you’ve even opened your mouth. Then you say you’re there for sleeping tablets and the assistant replies, ‘OK, so fat pills AND sleeping tablets?’

You make sure to stage your bikini photographs in a body-flattering way, such as jumping in the pool with your arms stretched in the air, or stretched out on a sun lounger with your stomach sucked in. When people question your strange expression, you tell them that you had food poisoning.

Come to think of it, every photograph is strategic and you can’t let your guard down. Because if it wasn’t, you look like Gemma off TOWIE.

You sing along to ‘I Am What I Am’, louder than anyone else.

The fresh fruit and vegetable bit of your fridge is filled with chocolate and sweets. Well, the empty wrappers of the aformentioned items.

You joke with your mates that the words ‘Death By Chocolate’ will adorn your gravestone, but you’re secretly shitting yourself that it actually happens. And that you’ll have to get a specially-made coffin. And that they’ll have to wheel your coffin through the church with a crane. And the crane breaks.

You realise that the t-shirt that you’re wearing is actually a six-man tent.

You’re offered a modelling job for Closer magazine, and when you get there, you find out it’s for a feature called, ‘Fat Lasses Who Don’t Really Mind Being Fat’.

You cry at any TV programme that depicts the plight of a child who gets picked last for sports.

You have a fridge-magnet, given to you by a friend, that makes reference to how you love food more than men. And instead if taking that hint given to you by a so-called friend, you put it up on your fridge and laugh at it every time you see it.

You go out and get pissed just so you have an excuse to have a kebab at the end of the night.

The people on Biggest Loser look normal to you when the series starts.

Your party trick is not being able to see your feet.


So there you have it, folks- a few of the endless Self-Loathing diet triggers. Or triggers for eating disorders in general. Join me next month when I explore characteristics of Phase 2 of the Self-Loathing Diet: Starving Your Bastard Self Until You Dry Heave Air.

If I’m not too busy jumping in front of a bus.

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How To Cope With The Recession- Part III

The economy is continuing in a downward spiral more depressing than sitting in your baked-bean stained underwear at the funeral of a toothless prostitute. And it doesn’t seem like there’s much light at the end of the tunnel.

So here are some more of my tips for coping with the recession. All serious, as usual.

Collect Tins

Collecting tins used to be a way for children to make some extra pocket money, but now, adults are getting in on the act, too. It’s easy, just get yourself a pair of fingerless gloves and then decide which one of the two crooks from the Home Alone films you’d like to copy the hairstyle of, and off you go. Watch out for AIDs-infected needles as you relive your bin-rummaging childhood. Once you’ve collected your body weight in tins (probably a skip-worth), take them to your local buyer and exchange them for a monetary value lower than it costs to buy yourself a solitary tin of lager. Then cry to yourself. And go get checked for AIDs, just to be on the safe side.

Be In An Accident

‘In work, on the road or anywhere else for that matter? Then you may be entitled to compensation.’ Says an actor in a suit pretending to be a lawyer the InjuryLawyers4U advertisement on ITV2. My advice? Tape your accident. Because when InjuryLawyers4U sue your workplace and take most of your money, passing on to you the sum of £25 and a pen and leaving you jobless, then you can send the tape to You’ve Been Framed and get an extra £250 for snapping your spinal cord in half. Good times.

Invent A Time Machine

And go back in time to when today’s investment bankers and financial leaders haven’t been conceived yet, and try to dissuade their future parents from conceiving such a pack of ravenous scumbags. If it turns ugly, threaten to give them AIDs, because, y’know, you still have AIDs from that time you collected tins.

Write A Hit Christmas Song

Regardless of the credit crunch, people still find money to overindulge children who have done little to deserve it at Christmas. Ah, Christmas- a time to buy things and eat until you puke- people spare no expense at Christmas. Therefore, writing a hit Christmas song will allow you to live off royalties for the rest of your life. But considering this market is so saturated, you will need to think outside the box and write something original. My own attempt at a Christmas song is called, ‘Christmas, Apparently’, and here it is in all of it’s glory.

‘Christmas is a time for rolling eyes,

Paedophiles don a convenient disguise,

Eating disorder starts with the gift of Sindy,

While we all have to suffer through The Xmas Special: Mork and Mindy.

No reason why we celebrate this day,

God doesn’t exist anyway,

Office workers have affairs,

Poor old Jesus- no one cares.


Oh November 1st to sometime in January,

That’s Christmas apparently,

Don’t even think about going to Argos,

How much of a cunt are people prepared to be?

Step back, you effing bitch, Are you trying to dry hump me?

Ok, now you’re invading my personal space, this space right here you ignorant cunt, don’t fuck with me today, I’m not in the mood.

That’s Christmas, apparently. *Jazz hands.

Either that or a rap of some kind.

Pretend You Have A Mental Disorder And See If You Can Get Away With Using Monopoly Money

You never know, someone might give you a bag of crisps or something so you’ll fuck off.

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Where Are They Now- The Cast of Teenage Mutant Ninja (Hero) Turtles

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (or Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles, whatever) hit our screens in the late 1980s, captivating many a child back in the day before remote controls were common and getting up to change the channel was a load of hassle. Those were the days- you could piss away a whole day with nothing but a tennis ball, and no-one really thought that paedophiles were a real thing. Kids today- eh?

Anyway, Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael and Michaelangelo were the perfect blend of green hero- not quite as upset as The Hulk, but more ballsy than the Jolly Green Giant– they truly were ’80s icons. But where are those lovable, wise-cracking New York amphibians and their trusty rat-sidekick? And what about Shredder and those other cunts? Here’s the current scoop:


According to the theme song- Donatello ‘does machines’, and not surprisingly, he’s still at it. Now working for the NASDAQ in New York, it’s Donatello‘s job to fix calculators so that the people who ruined our economy don’t have to do it their fucking selves. ‘I eventually want to work my way up to a Stock Analyst position, but it’s not looking likely.’ When asked was his bleak prediction due to the economy, he replied, ‘No, it’s because I’m a turtle. And a cartoon.’

Bebop and Rocksteady

This duo provided comic relief as a dim-witted pairing in TMNT, and have used this platform to relaunch themselves as butch-and-trying-to-hard-to-be-quirky British presenting act, Mel and Sue– and are currently getting in the way of the contestants, causing them to burn their biscuits, while presenting The Great British Bake-Off.


In the series, Raphael was known to be ‘cool but crude’ and, unfortunately, this reputation did little for his ability to find a regular acting gig when TMNT ended in 1996. He was last spotted auditioning for a small role in ‘American Pie VII- The Mid-Life Crisis- Oh Wait, We’ve Already Sort Of Done That One When We Made ‘The Reunion’, But It’s Okay, We’ll Just Get The Cast To Walk Down A High School Hallway In Slow Motion To A Wankish Soundtrack, And No-One Will Ever Know’. It is unknown if Raphael has got a part in the film, but according to directors, ‘Probably not, because he doesn’t really exist’.


Known for his calm demeanour and spiritual teachings, Splinter was always the voice of reason. Perhaps this is why, after the series’ ended, Splinter opted for a life out of the limelight, living in a tiny crack in a sideboard of a crackden in Brooklyn, where he resides with his 42, 674 rat babies. Unfortunately, their mother died in a tragic cheese-in-a-rat-trap accident, but Splinter is confident that one day, he’ll get that cheese, or die tryin’.


Everyone’s favourite turtle, Michaelangelo, was famed for being a party dude, but alas, his partying ways have eclipsed his ability to focus on using his popularity to gain legitimate acting roles. According to reports, he was recently spotted falling out a nightclub after a night of heavy drinking with Lindsay Lohan, being papped without his knickers on as he got into a taxi. He is currently suing the makers of Friends, saying that the character of Joey ‘stole his personality’.


Relentless cunt, Shredder, was always coming up with new ways to terrorise the city of New York. But since 9/11, the city has clamped down on suspected terrorism activity and Shredder is currently serving a life sentence without parole. ‘I’m using my time inside to learn French. And also, knitting’, he beams.


Group leader, Leonardo, kept all of the others in check as they battled against the evil Shredder and his allies. Nowadays, Leonardo prefers to channel his leadership skills into a more rewarding cause, working in the maximum-security jail where Shredder currently resides. ‘I’ve raped him twice. So far’, he laughs.


After starring in the show, supervillian Krang used his contacts to launch music magazine, Kerrang, so that people who like to define themselves by wearing black lipstick and tartan garments could have something to strategically display under their arm while they walk around so that everyone else knows that they’re intellectually superior, based on not-very-good songs that idiots have written.

That’s all for this month, folks. Join us again when we get up-to-date on another famous TV cast by making it up  doing solid research!

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How To Live Your Dream

‘Living the dream’ is one of life’s ultimate goals, long presumed to be enjoyed by a chosen few. When we talk about making dreams a reality, most are likely to be of the mindset that achieving one’s dreams is an unrealistic fantasy or an unattainable goal, so what’s the point in trying, right?

WRONG. Look around you- everything you see has been conceptualised by someone who lived their dreams and stuck it to the naysayers. Every day, people achieve dreams and goals despite having odds stacked against them, not to mention living in a world where most believe that nothing is possible.

So, with that in mind- what’s to stop you achieving your dreams? Here’s a few ways in which you can make it happen.


A very quick and easy route on the road to living the dream is to consume a big plate of fucking denial. It’s simple- just start being one of those crazy, deluded people on Jeremy Kyle who doesn’t seem to notice that the world is rolling their eyes at them. And you don’t see anyone on Jeremy Kyle realising they live the life of a depressing scumbag- thank you, denial. In fact, Jeremy Kyle people seem to comprise their own mini-society with much lower standards than the rest of the world. You’d be like their fucking king.

Downgrade Your Dreams

Let’s face it- dreams are pretty hard work, not to mention having no guarantee that all that hard work is going to pay off. But if you downgraded those dreams to something more realistic then you wouldn’t have to work as hard and you’d probably still achieve your goals. For example, wanting to be a famous popstar is going to take years of hard work, talent, luck, expense and risk. But, if you downgraded your dreams to say, being a singer in your local old folks’ home, then you’d probably be able to achieve your dreams right now without even breaking a nail. And I bet Katy Perry doesn’t have access to a fuckload of prescription drugs and a mobility scooter like you will. Well, she probably does- but FUCK HER and her stupid blue hair.

Piss On The Parades Of Others

The problem with other bastards living their dreams is that they stretch the invisible barrier of happiness, thus creating more space between themselves and you, at the other end of the spectrum- sitting alone and smoking while giving someone the fingers. Therefore, if you could piss on their parade by being insulting and rude about the achievements of others, then they’d be less happy, which makes you less unhappy by comparison. Let’s face it, happy bastards keep hogging all the happiness anyway- someone needs to put those bastards in their place. Anyone up for setting someone’s car on fire?

Die Before You Fly

Ever heard of the phrase ‘fake it ’til you make it’? Yeah, well, this is the death version of that. Lots of people, like Kurt Cobain and Heath Ledger, passed away before their time, leaving behind an implied legacy of endless talent. However, look at Michael Jackson– all he left behind was an uncomplimentary nickname and involuntary familial trip to the Jobcentre- if he had’ve died a few decades earlier, things would have been much better for his image. Don’t wait until you’ve lived that disappointing existence that you know in your heart is inevitable- die now and get yourself a free pass to assumed brilliance. Of course, I’m not suggesting that you kill yourself. Just fake your death and have that much needed ‘me-time’ that you keep promising yourself. Hello, trip to a fish spa with that voucher you bought on Groupon!

Put It Off Until You Can Be Arsed

Putting off your dreams until you can be arsed, otherwise known as a ‘New Years’ Resolution’ is an excellent way to delude yourself that the misery you live in won’t eventually swallow you whole, while being able to sit about now and play your X-Box or watch the entire back catalogue of Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo on Youtube (I’ve watched it all and have become very worried that the pregnant teenager is carrying her mother’s boyfriend’s baby). Just keep telling yourself that you’ll do something about those pesky dreams later on in life, and spend the time you have now praying that you either win the lottery/get horrifically mangled in an accident and sue whomever is responsible for your injuries/get struck by lightning and die.

Stop Making Excuses And Go For It

Only joking.

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How To Be A Modern-Day Domestic Goddess

When it comes to being a domestic goddess, I hear people say, ‘Your home is immaculate’, ‘You make the best cakes’ and ‘Where do you get the time to garden so well?’ to Nigella Lawson. If she didn’t look like a fucking good laugh, I’d hate her.

The expectations on women to be domestically-minded have subsided somewhat during the past few decades, considering the fact that women work more, marry less and decide themselves if and when they want to have children. But although these ideas are, in part, diminished, society still assumes that making ‘a house a home’ is women’s work, not least that raising children is still pushed upon women as the assumed ‘most rewarding job they’ll ever have’.

So, with the pressure to succeed professionally muscling in on whispered-expectations of mastered domesticity, what does the modern-day gal do?

Here are my tips for being a modern-day domestic goddess.


Modern day wimmin don’t have time to do housework alone, and as such, it is your job to allocate tasks to household members so that hygiene is a shared achievement. For example, if you have a husband and children, round them up and say- ‘Kids, keep your fucking toys out of my sight or else I’ll wait at the bottom of our chimney breast and shoot Santa Claus point-blank in the face if he tries to bring more into this house.’ Then turn to your husband with a list of every household chore you can think of, and say, ‘I’ll be doing routine spot checks. Everything not up to standard gets a point. Each point equals an affair.’ Then sit outside smoking until your house is squeaky clean.

Creating Atmosphere

As the head of the household, it is up to you to set a calming and welcoming atmosphere for your home, and I have the solution to achieve this quickly and easily. Being the most unimaginably horrible human being you can be, and I mean being a cunt to end all cunts, means that your family quiver with fear any time you walk into the house. Therefore, maintaining this nasty exterior means that your home is probably a much nicer place when you’re not there- meaning that you can spend most of your time out drinking and shopping, while your family are just glad you’re not at home, mentally abusing them. Done.

Family Time

As you may have guessed, I’m all about family. Whether it’s helping with homework, hearing about your husband’s day at the office, or clearing everyone’s schedules for some much needed family time- I’ve got the answer. Spend bonding time with your children, while also giving them a lesson in the importance of hard work, by teaching them the recipes to your favourite alcoholic cocktails. Invent games from routine chores at home so that you can make your quality time with your kids fun AND productive, such as ‘Let’s search for mummy’s cigarettes’ and ‘Help Mummy finish the TV Quick wordsearch by being as quiet as we possibly can’.

Likewise, employ such strategies with your spouse by making your time together fun and productive, by playing games like, ‘Stop talking to me’, ‘If you sit down beside me I’m going to get up, without saying a word, and leave the room’, and ‘While reading through your text messages, I noticed that recently, you’ve been getting flirty texts from a girl called Julie. How do I bring this up without admitting that I’ve been violating your privacy for years?’


Food is a huge part of being a domestic goddess, as it creates a welcoming environment for family, not to mention that mothers need to provide a nutritionally balance diet for their children, and that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Cheat your way to goddess-standard by going to Iceland and buying lot of frozen square-shapes, bunging them in the deep-fat fryer and throwing them in people’s faces. Yes, these aren’t the most appetising of dinners, but if you chain-smoke for a few hours in the kitchen before dinnertime, your family will attribute their non-appetites to the cigarette smoke plaguing their lungs rather than Iceland’s finest. If anyone offers constructive criticism about your cooking, just suffix their comments with, ‘Or perhaps you would prefer it if mummy just killed herself? Is that want you want? Hmmmm? Because if I do, it’ll be all your fucking fault.’ Then you can storm off to the chippy.

Setting the Scene

It is not only the job of a domestic goddess to take care of everything inside the home, but outside, too. You need to make sure your family have everything they need in order to succeed in their everyday lives. Make sure your husband’s clothing is always neat and pressed by telling him, ‘Anything that isn’t neat and pressed is getting a knife through it- whether you’re wearing it or not.’ Likewise, your children should always look appropriate to detract disapproving stares from strangers. Achieve this by letting them dress themselves, and then squealing at anyone who dares to glance at them, saying, ‘What the fuck are you looking at, you old bitch? Keep walking or I’ll destroy you’.

A woman’s work is never done. So you might as well not bother, and get drunk instead.

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