I waddled down to Sainsbury’s today. My back is still being childish and it was very painful walking all the way down there, although most of the agony was just thinking about having to go into Sainsbury’s. Sure enough, the rancid fuck-hole didn’t disappoint.
As soon as I walked in I overheard two ladies discussing Jade Goody’s much publicised media death. They didn’t like her. That’s fair enough. She never exactly came across as great but what struck me was how passionately these two old dears from a bygone era couldn’t wait for her to die. I think it is quite easy to forget that Jade Goody is an actual human and I’m not exactly her biggest fan (I was always much more of a Helen Adams maniac) but wishing her dead just seems a bit extreme. Overhearing the two sweet, aged darlings talk about how Jade did nothing other than beat other idiots at a big idiot competition made it very difficult for me to disagree with them or argue against their point. That was until they truly revealed what upset them. They’d seen that Jade has 9 seconds left to live (again) on the front page of the Daily Star, a paper for the hysterical, and next to Jade’s crying face was a picture of Princess Diana, the dead woman.
“Well”, said one of the piss-soaked, old cunts. “You can’t compare her to Princess Diana.”
“No”, said her senility-filled, coffin-dodging, skeleton friend. “It’s disgraceful having them on the same page.”
You can learn a lot from the old. Things like, aren’t old people fucking awful? Comparing Jade Goody to Princess Diana? That will never do! What in the name of God has Jade Goody, a blonde, money obsessed, fame loving parasite who spent her whole life doing absolutely fuck all and only when the shadow of death appeared got people to actually like her, have in common with Princess Diana?
I’m being sarcastic. They could be twins.
I had a nice weekend with nice gigs with very nice bills. Weekends like that really make me very happy about my job. Then leaving the gig to get on a late night train is where it goes all piss-shaped. I was in a tube carriage with about 10 very noisy men all of whom were drinking heavily and shouting at one another. They intimidated everyone in the carriage and kept a horrible atmosphere. I hated them. Why they thought they could forget about everyone else and just drink and shout in a confined public space is beyond me. What baffled me further was the fact that they were all swapping friendship bracelets with each other. “YOU’RE MY BFF, YOU SLAAAAAAG!”