No one wants to know your life story

I know. But I am excited about getting my TV show off the ground. I can be cool again if I want but it comes down to the central tenant of todays reading.

being a cool kinda D-list psuedo celebrity is an economic proposition.

So this is all . . . back story okay? When I’m back to my former glory this stuff will start to matter again.

I’m sorry I haven’t checked my messages I’m just shit scared theres some new fuckin scenewhore wannabe piece of shit wanting to fuck me up or I dunno some fuckin muppet who doesn’t get I’m from the Lynn and I call people fags and niggers and currymunchers all the fuckin time and that’s just my mother.

So many stupid fucks out there need a crusade. Why don’t you just leave it alone and stop playing with it?

WHat? Yeah! It’s gratuitous offense for the sake of itself, it’s about as relevant as last weeks fashion crisis, it’s a point for the pointless, it’s a hope for the hopeless, open the fucking curtains, wake up and smell the irony of your own fucking pointless existence.

But I'm fucked in the head. This is what happens when you lead the kind of worthless shallow lifestyle I do but at least it's funny;

Thats why I’m making a TV show.

Yeah Myspace is fuckin done but what you might want to realise is that I am merely limbering up for another tier of completely baseless claims to recognition – but with pride and respect for myself to make the necessary preparations as not to look like a complete fucking nonce. but half you fucks with the attention of a fucking goldfish theres no fucking pleasing you, oh cruel, cruel are the ways of the scene!

I have to run around on youtube next like some kind of whore clown desperate for approval. So lucky I like the sound of my own voice as it echoes through the empty caverns of myspace.

I’m like . . . so last year. Myspace is fuckin last year. Don’t worry. Do you think I would insist on going on and fucking on about the tiger penis if it didn’t have a point? If I didn’t have a hope, swaggering like while wankers around the world are still prepared to fake it, then pretentious bullshit will prevail?

Facebook, Bebo, yeah yeah whatever. I got the tiger penis, I’ll see you in the spotlight. Jesus fucking Christ.

New Tiger, same penis. Don't you worry. We'll be catching up soon on the flipside.

So back to the story. Lets fucking just get to the point shall we? You may not give a flying fuck about what brought me to this point but what have we learned from my fuck uppy ways???

My point is: BEING POOR IS NOT SCENE.

If you leave a decent well paying job under the drug addled illusion you are an actual internet celebrity, and existence pans out with your pretentious, sleazy and arrogant diatribes ending in you as a poor and fucked up fuckeroo who does not go to pathetic industry do's and date models such as the non junction of this dead end I have arrived at . . .

You need to be on a good 50-60k earn before you can even pretend to act like you know. I could sit around shooting shit on myspace till the fucking casket drops but when you’re poor avoiding looking like a fucking joke at the crucial point can become a hopeless ordeal. Auckland, K rd, full of poor stupid pretentious wannabe losers who just haven’t got close enough to 30 yet to realise that theyre a fuck up and they always have been. A lot like myspace really.

I’m not the only one. Fortunately, not I says he. Fortunately I am not the one crying into his coffee because the dream is over, and I have to beg my boss for my old salary when in fact it has only just begun.

I don’t write this shit because I was destined for less than greatness.

I was given a gift. A gift of the Tigers penis, that I may find strength when I am weak, friends when I am lonely, and beauty and glamour where once was the domains of gruesome drudgery.

The Tiger penis, my lifeline, keeps my dreams alive, because I chose my moment not to continue to fuck around on myspace waiting for it to all to come crashing down. I took my Tiger penis and I put it to use!

And as soon as I can afford to make my presence felt with the weight that belies more than your average squealing fuckwit, I’m sure you’ll know about it.

Now as you were. Lets get back down to it.