When there's no more room in Hell...

And the star prize at the 'totally missed the point' awards, goes to Stephen Fry's followers on Twitter. Not that most of them know who he is outside watching half of an episode of QI... cretins.

So not that I'm a huge fan of this whole 'ooh I'm following a person who is famous, that makes me their best friend', business, but then when barely literate people start having a go at celebrities for things they don't understand, I do find that passes as at least some form of entertainment.

Recently Stephen Fry made a slight overestimation of his followers' abilities to put two and two together, when he admitted the last bit of TV he illegally downloaded was the season finale of House. Don't know if it was worth it, to be honest. I finally made it through Season 5 last night (no I will NOT tell you if I paid for it or not). Pretty pissed off about it; lots of cyclic narratives that went nowhere and 'it's all a dream' explanations for going back to normal when interesting plot development actually took place. Anyway, I'm digressing. Cue anarchy as the people he once regarded as his friends (very naive, Stephen), went on the attack against piracy and stealing and blahblahblahboringbitthatyoutryandskipondvdsbutit
won'tletyounowBLAH.

Do these people understand CONTEXT? This kind of stuff keeps me awake at night. That one day these people will inherit the earth (if they haven't already), mindlessly complaining about stuff without a sense of irony or understanding of what's really happening.



Maybe these people should give Hugh Laurie a ring? Maybe he'll explain the joke to them. Then again, I wonder if they'll be looking up his name as 'Gregory House' in the phone book. Bastards.

Four Weddings.

...Minus a funeral. Or Richard Curtis. Two things to be very thankful for.

As if Come Dine with Me wasn't the peak of reality tv excellence, Living TV have proved themself to be somewhat of a dark horse and have produced Four Weddings. In case you haven't guessed the set up, it's the same, but instead of a dinner party competition for upper-middle class wannabes, it's a wedding competition with neurotic female contestants and their battered husbands.

The winner gets a luxury honeymoon, and the women seem to be borderline psychotically intent on having the best wedding, meaning they'll backstab and crush any stupid bitch that gets in their way, obviously whilst putting on a face for the cameras.



Imagine the KateSLASHPeter superpinksupervomitinducingsuperridiculous wedding, times it by four, and add a competitive element, and I think we've got the makings of something promising.