Up Against The Wall
New inductees into the list of the first against the wall come the revolution. Yes, it may well be stating the obvious, however it needs saying.
As previously mentioned I have an issue with stupidity. Particularly stupidity which manifests itself in those who for some reason find themselves thrust into the limelight with no discernable talent or ability and persist in staying there.
Jade Goody is a given. I’m not even going to bother giving that waste of carbon further words of justification.
The name for my pain this time around is multi-fold, but let’s start with a leftfield opening.
I don’t particularly like Lily Allen. I find her to be obnoxious and just a smidge over-rated. However, what she does have going for her is that she does know how to write a catchy tune, even if it’s not to my particular taste, she also does have a vocal style of her own. For that, she avoids being assigned to The Wall.
However, what elevates her to sainthood as far as I’m concerned is the following quote :
“What the hell do you know about Islam you useless oaf”
which was aimed, perfectly at Peaches Geldof.
Now, at some point in the last five years some jumped up marketing twat in the hip pocket of former-minor-success-turned-charity-worker-whose-credibility-is-on-the-wane-Bob-Geldof elected her the spokesperson for the generation.
Which generation exactly? The overprivileged, narrowminded, famous-daddy generation?
First, this particular spokesperson for a generation has no personality to speak of, and yet she seems to have a fucking camera crew following her around everywhere getting her worldly-wise insights into the world today from her position as spokesperson for a generation. Secondly, her worldly-wise insights are neither worldly (unless on the subject of spending daddy’s money) nor wise. They are instead banale.
I demand a new election to choose the spokesperson for the “I know everything, I’m 19″ generation. I may even stand myself. I knew everything at 19, I know even more now. Vote Sam. You know it makes sense.
Unlike the executive decision which was taken to put Kelly Osborne into the role of glamorous host of “Project Catwalk”. Last year Liz Hurley, this year Kelly Osborne.
Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK?
Liz Hurley – rich, posh, easy on the eye.
Kelly Osborne – rich, stupid, looks like a bulldog chewing a wasp.
Wearing Gucci legwarmers does not make you glamorous if you look like the back end of a bus, it makes you look like the back end of a bus wearing a retarded fashion.
We’ve all witnessed, I’m sure, “The Osbornes”, that wonderfully off-the-cuff and unscripted look into the life of Ozzie “actually famous for a reason” Osborne and his waster family. Entertaining largely because Ozzie is fucked up and generally baffled by everything. Aggravating because his wife is an estate-scum gobshite harridan, his son is a loafing dipshit and his daughter a thick pox-ridden dog.
Stop me if you think I’m going too far.
And yet, for some reason Sky (okay, yes not necessarily overburdened in the purveyor-of-quality-entertainment category) in their finite wisdom have decided that Kelly Osborne is the ideal host (despite being unable to string a single braincell together) for a show dedicated to the cut-throat world of fashion. I see the connection – Kelly spends daddy’s money on clothes which make her look cretinous, the contestants are designing clothes to make people look cretinous.
I despair.
So, let’s summarise the stars of today’s show :
Lily Allen (not up for execution… yet. Needs to STFU and demonstrate why she’s actually a benefit to humanity) – daughter of fuck-cool Keith Allen.
Peaches Geldof (up for execution) – daughter of Bob Geldof.
Kelly Osborne (up for execution) – daughter of Ozzie Osborne.
Whose daughter are we going to have thrust upon us next I wonder?
Well, the criteria seems to be as follows, if your dad is vaguely marketable you’re in. Talent, ability, intellect are not a barrier to entry, so go knock yourself out.
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