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I just want to be famous/rich/in HEAT Magazine
boyzone, cock, famous, happy, heat magazine, noah wyle, only good for one thing, rich, strong women, unhappy
Well I don’t, but it seems everyone else does these days. I don’t get it, I really don’t get (I try to walk away but my feet won’t let me, sorry, short Boyzone moment then).
I find that I become more and more adamant in my refusal to be around people, because to be perfectly honest, people annoy the hell out of me. I used to think when I was a teenager that the way people around me desperately sought attention, wanting to grow up to marry a footballer, or Noah Wyle (google him, do it.) was something they’d grow out of. They wanted to be looked after, they wanted to have loads of money and they wanted to be on the front of all the glossy magazines. Sadly it turns out it’s not something you grow out of. When they go out now, they still dress up like wannabe WAGs. Still put the fake tan on and put up with those hair extensions that look like a horses ass (or should that be tail?). However, what annoys me the most is how stupid they act.
I realise that Katie Price and Jodie Marsh and the likes of those horrible wastes of human life appear to be famous for no other reason but having big tits and no brains. Well, I hate to disappoint you girls, but being stupid won’t get you anywhere. Whilst I imagine neither of them two girls are anywhere as intelligent as they think they are, you do need half a brain to know what to sell, be it a picture of your tits or a bottle of perfume, not to mention know when to spread your legs wider than the Rio de la Plata. Women like Katie Price and those who have since tried to be like her are not famous because they are independent, strong, modern women. They’re famous because they fucked someone with a big wallet, and I hate to tell you this, but just being an airhead with no self-respect will not ensure that the same happens for you.
Being rich, famous, fucking Frank Lampard, none of this will make you happy. Sadly it’s what young girls think will make them happy. Don’t eat, don’t talk, don’t say no. Be a stupid little bimbo, with fake tits and no mind of your own along with no confidence, self respect or anything else remotely attractive to anyone who’s after more than a shit shag at three in the morning. You’ll get your fifteen minutes of fame, when you sell your story to one of the rag papers, but once it calms down again, you’ll be back to living in that council flat with your kids, on your own, and soon enough you’ll be too old to pull anyone remotely famous.
There are smart women, there are women who know how to get what they want out of life, there are women who have more brains than most of the male population put together. Just wish there would be more of them, that way perhaps I could spend time around women without wishing I’d been born with a cock and so could justify my inclination to only spend time with men. Make up, clothes and famous men we’d like to shag but never will, maybe a bit about other halves or children (eek)… It never will be an interesting night out, and I’ve gotten to the point where I’m thinking I’ve finally given up on it ever being interesting. Sorry girls, you really are only good for one thing.
Sil, x
P.S. Not all girls are like this, some women are incredibly interesting, strong, intelligent and everything that could be good about a woman. Sadly they just seem to be forgotten amongst the sea of Barbie doll airheads that seem to infest the offices, high streets and pubs of England.
Sil
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