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Arrivederci to all the president’s men!

 

 Does anyone remember ‘The Thick of It,’ the British sit-com that satirised the inner workings of a modern government? My hero was the Malcolm Tucker character, the fictional PM’s equally fictional spindoctor whose famous line goes…“If you resign after a week it looks like you’ve f***ed up; if the PM sacks you after a week, it looks like he’s f***ed up” (or something like that).

  Well that very sentiment sprang to mind last week when, following a series of controversial meeja appearances, Anthony Scaramucci, the fleeting White House Communications Director, was sacked after just 10 days in the job. Now personally I felt the man whose communications strategy was to go on a vulgar expletive-laden tirade should have been given his P45 immediately following his profane invective to reporter Ryan Lizza from The New Yorker where his cardinal mistake was to forget using three very important words…’off the record!’ You see, if he’d said this, Lizza, like all professional journos, would probably never have quoted him. 

  Look, Trump’s administration has all the ingredients of a hilarious reality show, which would be grand if it wasn’t real life and Chump wasn’t seen as the most powerful leader of the free world; a situation that’s seriously worrying, because other leaders have historically looked to the US for guidance and direction. I mean, in a profoundly moronic and sobering moment of reflection, I realised while writing this, that Trump has done absolutely nothing, nada, zilch, zero since he was elected to office, other than to sack the director of the FBI. I mean, he’s passed no relevant legislation because he’s too busy tweeting ‘A great day in the White House,’ and ‘Fake news,’ and Doofus continues to do this while Russia is carrying out drills on NATO’s border and North Korea launches missiles.

  To be honest, there’s a clear pattern emerging with this amadán and it’s this…he’s completely forgotten he’s been elected, that he’s actually now on the clock and it looks like he’s still campaigning for the Presidency. I’m not sure about you readers, but personally I cannot wait for James Comey’s tell-all tome!

Is Celebrity Big Brother defining fame in a downward slope?

I’m lovin’ ‘Celebrity Big Brother’. It’s my end of summer guilty pleasure; but seriously, who are these people? These no marks who doddered into da’ house like a pack of abandoned outcasts from that barren no-man’s-land they once called stardom? Oh yeah, this year we’ve got the Who’s Who of Nobody-Ville all vying to pick up a desperately needed few bob before their mansions are repossessed! 

  Once deemed ‘a social experiment’, it’s really interesting to see how this previously promising series has gone from the first episode’s scraping the bottom of the barrel formula, to recently plummeting to record depths of mediocrity by securing wannabes desperate for free stuff and the glare of the spotlight. For example, Derek Acorah, a psychic with his own spirit guide whose notable achievement is that he can communicate with the dead! Oh that’ll be useful, because when this series finishes, dippy Derek is gonna need a séance to resurrect his dearly departed career!

  Then, as if the production company’s guest booker decided to define fame in a downward slope, we got a contestant who appears to be trying to turn every aspect of her life into an opportunity – gangsta’s moll Marissa Jade, (known for her little turn on US reality show Mob Wives). Classy! Not really…not when you’re a woman who clearly thinks shacking up with a jailbird affords you some hard-nosed diva-esque street cred! It doesn’t, hon! You see, dropping names and er, picking them up again, and falling for an ex-con, doesn’t make you special at all, rather it makes you sooooo basic and sooooo boring!

  Now these two ‘celebrity housemates’ alone make me wonder if the nauseous underclass are slowly rising to dominate our viewing time once again folks. You see, looking at the show’s latest bunch of needy nobodies, it strikes me that, when put together, the collective wattage of their entertainment value shines barely brighter than a lava lamp.

  As for former Girls Aloud singer Sarah Harding…what happened to this stunning girl’s looks? Despite much controversy and a marked difference in her once flawless appearance, Harding has denied having cosmetic surgery…er, so why does the best looking one in the group now look like a squirrel is storing his nuts for winter inside her gob? And how come she couldn’t remember the words to her “favourite” Girls Aloud song, ‘The Promise’, and needed a cue card during what was (in all honesty) a pretty, eh, promising performance! I have to hand it to Sarah, the girl can sing. I predict a record deal…ker-ching!  

  However, with spite in her voice, I was disappointed to see that jealous Marissa, perpetuating the myth of the narcissistic green-eyed monster, had a dig at Sarah, saying if the warbler were one of the Spice Girls she’d be ‘Unseasoned’ Spice. Oooh quick, you’d better copyright that kooky little label Marissa before some unscrupulous hack steals it on you! 

  Seriously folks, and I say this without any hint of cynicism whatsoever, but methinks the Daz Doorstep Challenge couldn’t even clean up the acts on this season’s washed out line-up! But I’m lovin’ it!

 

 

 

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Roscommon