The Sexennial Anniversary

I had an interview last week, and I was showing them this blog. The boss was scrolling down the page, and he skimmed over my blog post for my five year anniversary. In it, I state my all-time word count. "213,436 words…" he says. "Wow, that's a lot."

And you know what, it bloody is. It's astonishing. But I wonder if it is time well spent. Every one of those words represents time I could have spent doing something of more value, instead of being sat alone in a room, in my own little world. It's not a very sociable hobby, and not very lucrative. However, I say that in the full knowledge that many of today's youth make a living from playing a fool on YouTube, or giving repetitive fashion advice on a blog. For some reason, there just isn't much money in writing self-indulgent misanthropy, written just for the purpose of procrastinating from other things.

Notice that since I finished University in May, my blog production has decreased. That's because I have had nothing better to be doing. I thrive at writing blogs when I have other stuff to do. I am currently in the middle of retraining my brain to be able to write even when my schedule is empty. Like this morning.

But anyway, I can feel my fingers digressing. My blog was six years old on Saturday. Six years. That's (including this), 214  posts overall; 17 of which were over the past year, and marking a continued decline in my yearly production. However, that now equals  227,670 words taking up invaluable space on the Internet. And if you think it's sad that I've put this much effort into something I get little in return for, then you won't want to know that I find these statistics incredibly interesting.

My most read blogs all tend to be my reviews this year, where I show off about all the musicals I've seen, gigs I've attended, films I've watched, and CD's I've brought. No-one seems particularly interested in my trails of thought, but alas, I shall continue.

However, that is possibly in part because most of my attention over the past year, has been directed at my newest project: A Misanthrope's Guide to London. Surprisingly, that blog seems to be gaining a lot of popularity in the USA, so I would like to apologise for any American's who's opinion of London have decreased. BUT, that could mean less American tourists in London, and that can only be considered a positive.

Almost every one of them I've met, matches the American tourist stereotype. They wear bright yellow jackets, shorts, fishing hats, and invite you to come stay with them, despite the fact you've only spent a few minutes in their company. Have you seen the Harry and Paul sketch of the two American tourists? That is a perfect impression of a very distant relative of mine, and his wife. Granted, they're Canadian, but they live in Las Vegas. I have a draw full of lapel pins from different states, which they showered upon everyone they met.

Anyway, I'm now looking for a new project. I have two ideas; both with misanthropy at their heart. Do I start a sequel, which I alluded to in my last post, called 'A Misanthrope's Guide to Folkestone & Hythe'? Or perhaps a general one for Kent? Or an English one? Or, do I start a mock news website? The Misanthrope Times perhaps? I don't know. And that's where the issue lies. I want to put my focus into a new website. Start completely afresh.

I said this a few years ago, and I'm still here, but I, again, think it's nearing a time to retire from this blog, and to let it share it's memories with anyone who stumbles upon it after putting in an obscure Google search. I shall move on and try to rear a new project into maturity; one which would be bigger, better, and not still include old blog posts with shameful grammar, spelling and with no real purpose.

But it's hard. I love this blog; apart from the web address which I chose when I was sixteen. So, I need help moving on with my life, but I just can't decide where to focus my misanthropy.

What are your thoughts? A Misanthrope's Guide to Somewhere New? Or The Misanthrope Times?

It's your decision; should you care. I value your opinion, even if you don't value mine.

Jade Goody: What A Smashing Year It Has Been Without Her!

It was a year ago today that Jade Goody went through those fiery gates of hell, with the molten lava flooding past her and the aroma of burnt sausages wafting around the place. I have a visual image of Hitler and Suddam Hussien holding a banner which says 'Welcome Jade Goody' at the entrance to hell, with the devil there himself, to personally welcome in his newest member to his community. With it being a Sunday, he would usually be taking a well-deserved break after a week of torturing, but after hearing about the work that this 'Goody' person had done above on Earth, he just had to meet her and congratulate her for her lifetime commitment to being annoying, loud-mouthed, media-attention-seeking, money hungry, bitch.

It seems time is not a healer, as a year later I still have this strong, and some might say 'negative' opinion towards the woman I affectionately call 'ARG, not her again'. The last week or so has been quite confusing and painful for me, thanks to her. The 22nd of March 2009 has been burnt onto my mind forever as one of the happiest days of my life and I also remember it as Mothers Day, so imagine my surprise when I found out just days before that Mothers day this year was a week earlier, on the 14th of March. I had to rush to Tesco's to buy my Mum a card and flowers, all because of that Jade Goody. I thought I was safe in the knowledge that Mothers Day would be the 21st, and that's not all.

Beyond the grave, I swear Jade Goody has not only attempted to make my Mum angry at me, but also to crash my car by cursing me with a bad leg, and also making me vomit myself to death by putting me under the spell of a virus which left me bid ridden for nearly three full days. All I suspect to stop me writing and publishing yet another anti-Goody blog. Maybe I am paranoid, but better luck next time.


I am glad Michael Jackson died last year as well, but not because I disliked him, because I didn't, but purely because it took the hype from Jade Goody. If it wasn't for him, 2009 would be the year that the people of Britain would remember as the year Jade Goody died, but thanks to his doctor killing him, he has become the big death of 2009. I bet Max Clifford was absolutely livid about it, and it is because of that image, I go to sleep happy, every single night.

There is a part in mind which is very suspicious of her whole death really, because who knows what lengths she would go to be famous and popular. Maybe she is dead, or maybe she is alive and living somewhere no-one knows of her and wouldn't recognise her (how I envy them). You may be reading this thinking 'That's a stupid idea; she isn't that idiotic and it wouldn't work'. Well, let me just remind you that this is a woman who pronounced East Anglia as 'East Angular' and thought that to be abroad. As for 'she would never get away with it', never underestimate the power that Max Clifford has.

Again, here is my paranoia (and my hatred) shinning through again, but I think it to be quite a coincidence that at the peak of her unpopularity for being a racist, she gets cancer, gains sympathy, becomes loved then dies before she can ruin it by saying yet another stupid thing. Maybe the reason I am suspicious that she could still be alive is that I miss her and want her to still be alive, because I do. I loved the days when all my Tweets were about how she had annoyed me, when all my blogs seemed to mention her and call her names and when I would come up with a new joke when I saw her face in a gossip magazine or newspaper which would either make my friends laugh or tell me 'that was harsh'. If she came back, imagine all the fun I could have with that.

Instead I have to live with Jade Goody being mentioned every single time Cervical Cancer is mentioned. Every time I read a newspaper or magazine article which is about Cervical Cancer, you can bet that her name is mentioned. Okay, I am aware that I have said this numerous times in many of my blogs and I am going to have to say it again: She done absolutely nothing of any worth. At no point during her illness did she campaign for young girls to get themselves checked out. Essentially, her dying was the best thing that could ever happen, because A) It cheered me up and B) It shocked people into getting themselves checked. All these girls only get themselves checked as a consequence of her dying, not because she tirelessly campaigned. It distresses and provokes me when people almost thank her for girls getting checked out.

Again, I should just reiterate, I am not glad she got cancer; as the cliché goes: I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy. I have gone yet another year of witnessing the effects that cancer has upon people, with yet another relative biting the dust as a result of it. However, another relative has had cancer and is now perfectly healthy; it really is unpredictable. I have also seen friends deal with relatives that have cancer, and it is not a good thing, and hopefully soon they will find the cure AND not making it so expensive that no-one can actually afford to be cured, as is so often the case. However, I should reiterate one more thing, I still really, absolutely dislike Jade Goody; I'm not heartless and I am actually quite a genuinely nice person, but I nether had sympathy for her!


Last night on television, there was a tribute show to someone who died last year, which I enjoyed greatly and thought it very emotional and tastefully done. That was Boyzone's Tribute To Steven Gately (R.I.P). However, on last night at the same time was 'Jade: A Year Without Her' on Living TV. I found it funny that numerous people told me about this for weeks previous. I had people Tweeting me, sending me texts, I had an email and also people telling me when they saw me in person. I think it is a great tribute to how much I hated her and how much of an impression I made upon people by doing this. I almost feel pressured into writing this blog; like I am expected to insult her by everyone because of this persona I have created, and this makes me happy. I’ve got to be good at something.

Going back to the tribute, and I could not watch it. Not just because I risked being a hypocrite if I did as it would mean not living by my own values, but for technical reasons: I don't have Sky or Virgin Media so therefore couldn't watch it due lack of the actually channel. I did read the immediate reviews of it afterwards however and also read Tweets while the show was on, and from what I gathered it was what I would call 'Poppycock' and 'Balderdash'! It was apparently a very emotional program in which many people were in or nearly in tears at. I can't help but think these people are very pathetic. Also, she was portrayed as a brilliant person from what I could gather; shown as a fantastic parent to her two children and many people fell in love with her. Essentially, Max Clifford did a good job at achieving his aim.

Obviously, a tribute show of someone's life is not going to catalogue all the persons failings in chronological order, so this was expected, but I just find it amazing how easily people forget the bad things a person done when the media pretend they didn't happen. They clearly have taken all the positive stuff from her life, such as her kids, and based the majority of the show around them for ultimate sympathy from the audience. All-of-a-sudden, all the racism and stupidity is forgotten. A parallel to this happening to a person who is actually alive is Cheryl Cole, being portrayed as this princess of modern times and the role model for millions of girls and women; yet only a few years ago a toilet attendant in a club got beaten up by her. It is blooming annoying.

I am glad that is how they made the show; I think it to be quite fitting of how she lived her life really - a liar. Anyway, I know I will have to get over her death soon and just move on with my life. I know I will have to stop using her as my 'go-to-guy' when I need an easy target to insult in conversations, Tweets and blog posts, but it is just so very hard to move on. I have tried my best, what with Katie Price being an ideal and even easier target for my insults, especially with her not knowing who her husband was last week during her interview on This Morning (Thank Goody I was ill to see that), but it just is not the same. I have all these memories of when life was great and care free. The days when I could insult a women who was dying of cancer, and still get laugh, but now I just look desperate.

There are just three other things which fill me with joy about Jade Goody’s death and also about the anniversary. The first being that my lucky number has always been the number 27, and this was proved by the fact that Jade Goody died at the age of 27. Now, to me it is more than a lucky number - it is a holy, saintly number which will bring joy to me throughout my life.

The second is sweet taste I have in my mouth while typing this very sentence. In the news yesterday was that Jackiey Budden, the mother of Jade Goody, spent the days before her daughter's memorial service yesterday on a drink and drug-induced binge in Tenerife. It is all explained how Jade became such an awful human being, and proof that the entire family are just awful human beings and should be dropped into a giant crater and left to die, like that scene in the BFG at the end.

The third is that Jade Goody being dead essentially proves that - I won. I hated her and now she is dead. I win. Maybe I'll get lucky and Katie Price's left breast will implode and kill her. For now: Stuart 1, Pop Culture 0.