Wednesday, January 26, 2005


I was going to give you a nice positive post today, about the weather or something. But I feel like shit, so I won't. Not only do I feel like shit, but I walked all the way up the fucking hill here where I work (Northampton, UK) to buy some Lockets or something. And the fucking shop was shut.


Why the hell have a shop if you're not going to open it on Wednesday afternoon?

Actually I will post about something. Meet Adam Millard...

What the fuck is up with the world? What has this guy achieved by paying four grand to have his face cut up? Let's take the "before" shot... He looks OK to me. A bit ragged here and there, and bit geezerish. A face on the local crime scene perhaps. A face you would hesitate to fuck with, but who wouldn't have much of a problem attracting a certain type of lady. Maybe you can score some coke off him, or ask him if he knows anyone who "fixes problems". Maybe he "fixes problems". The face of a man who has been around, in short. An interesting face. And then the "after" shot...

He looks like a fucking dimwit, is what he looks like. And he IS a fucking dimwit, as we hear when he opens his mouth:

"I'd reached a point where I recognised I was getting older and had partied too hard and had too many sunbeds."

Fair enough. Haven't we all, mate. (Except the sunbeds. What's that for? The British are supposed to be pasty.) Then this:

"I go clubbing quite a lot - the scene is all about wrapping paper. You walk into a club and want to feel good."

Uh oh. Wrapping paper? Wrong, mate. That scene is about drinking 10+ pints of Stella and tripping hard on E, then looking around for the least-ugly member of the opposite sex to cop off with. Look closer. But OK, maybe he wants to wear some nice clothes, comb his hair perhaps. (More than I would bother with but each to his own, eh.) Then we get this:

"Unfortunately my wrapping paper was getting a bit tatty round the edges and I'm a very fastidious person so hanging out with 'beautiful people' made me pull myself apart."

For fuck's fucking sake, man... Would you just listen to yerself for once?

"Because I wasn't confident about my look, I just wouldn't believe people who paid me a compliment. I was walking around with 'I'm feeling insecure' written across my forehead."

Am I just picking on this guy? Should I just leave him alone, and concentrate on writing my novel? Or maybe blog about crime fiction and other blogs and shut the fuck up about the world at large? Perhaps. But fuck it - HE put himself up for public scrutiny by letting the BBC do this "magazine" piece on him. HE is perpetrating this cult of youth that seems to have grabbed the Western world.

And I am feeling like shit today.


Ray said...

So he paid four grand to look MORE orange and have a shit beard grafted onto his face. Balls to that. When I get older, I hope to be craggy and mean-looking.

Course, what'll probably happen is I get soft and gay-looking.

Like Adam Millard...

And as for the shop thing, I'm still amazed when they shut on Wednesdays. I mean, Christ, is the war still on?

Charlie Williams said...

Ray - somehow I knew you'd agree. Craggy is the way to go. Or maybe just this:

However, I think you're supposed to keep your hair to join that club.

Ray said...

Nope, no way is this Banks keeping his hair. Male pattern baldness is rife on both sides of the family, which means Yours Truly needs to keep his head fluff short as a Krankie to avoid looking like a baldy-baldy in years to come.

Still, I'd love to look like Kenny Rogers. They do wig-and-beard combos somewhere, you think?

Sarah said...

No Rogaine for you, Ray?

Charlie Williams said...

Your shot at the Point Blank site shows you to be bearing up ok, Ray. Bit of trouble standing straight but never mind. Hey - that gives me an idea (new post coming...)

Ray said...

That would be because I live in a Batman-style evil lair.

I also have henchmen with stupid names.