The mephedrone factor …

So it had to happen eventually – things were getting a little too sane, so what do we do? Crack open the hysteria and get crazy over the latest “biggest threat to our kids since … uh, the last one”.

I know I’m risking sounding like a hard-faced bitch here and I’m risking countless tales of woe on how some poor defenceless child got hooked on this evil stuff … But what the hell, I’ll risk it. Live life on the edge like everyone else.

Now before someone gets the wrong idea, this is not some free-spirit so-far-left-I’m-off-the-map defence of drugs. No, no. I’ve seen how that shit messes with people and I’m doing a superb job of making my life complicated enough without being off my head for most of it.

This is a rant about how hyped up this whole thing has become and for what? A ban on mephedrone to solve everything? Sure, that’s worked so well in the past. Look at all those other banned drugs – from dope to coke via heroin. All banned. So no one must be addicted to them because they couldn’t possibly get their grubby little paws on a banned substance. Could they?

Even the term “legal high” bugs me. Rat poison’s legal – I’m not going to shove it up my nose to see what happens.

Where are these bans going to stop – or do we just keep going until everything small enough to fit up the average nostril is illegal incase some jumped-up little idiot takes a shine to it?

Mephedrone is sold in stuff like plant fertiliser. Now forget the head shops and their little codes for a second – it quite clearly says on the label “Not for human consumption – plant fertiliser”. Yet how many sob stories have we heard about the little darlings who didn’t know bad things would happen if they took it?

Did you recently sprout leaves? No? Then. Don’t. Take. It.

Don’t get me wrong, I have sympathy for the families of kids who die after taking this. I have sympathy for the kids themselves, just like I would for anyone who kills themselves, whether quickly or over time, through addiction.

But spare us the “I didn’t know” cobblers. People experiment, they take risks. No one can seriously fall for that “legal high so it must be safe” crap. We all make choices. Alcohol is legal. Nicotine is legal. They’re both drugs and we all know the dangers. But some of us choose to ignore them. It may be stupidity – but it’s not ignorance.

The ban’s days away. And the mephedrone replacement’s hot on its heels. Tell me that’s not someone making a choice.

Brace yourself …

St Patrick's Day

So St Patrick’s Day celebrations are underway Stateside …

In a side-note to all you ”Irish-Americans”, please don’t come home for the holiday – we’d sink in seconds!

And besides, you guys have a blast over there - a sea of green taking over the country, your green pints of beer, Guinness with shamrocks drawn in the froth, even the rivers dyed for the occasion … All in all, more Irish culture than a leprechaun could shake a shillaly at. You’ve even got our top politicians over there – Brian Cowen, Martin McGuinness, Peter Robinson … The boys are back in town and Hillary’s rolling out the green carpet.

And it’s a similar story the world over – landmarks lit with green lights, alcohol flowing, almighty craic to be had. Isn’t Paddy’s Day great?

So what are we doing back in the homeland where the legend himself grew up?

Well, there’s a controversial parade or three planned by splinter paramilitary-affiliated groupings and, in Belfast at least, the riot squads will be on standby – all thanks to last year’s “celebrations”.

Last year, 400 alcohol-fuelled people created an unholy mess in Belfast’s Holyland in the name of our patron saint. And in the wake of the carnage, the province’s universities pledged a crackdown, student representatives blamed a troublesome minority and local pub landlords swore blind they “weren’t that drunk” when they left their premises.

Some people claim only a minority of those involved were actually students who could be eligible for disciplinary procedures by the universities – well, lets hope that’s true. Because those involved who posted the video evidence for all to see on internet hosting site, Youtube, aren’t exactly the brightest crayons in the box.

Although you have to wonder. Despite the fact the city’s media descended to photograph and film the confrontations with armed police – leaving horrified parents up and down the country to spot their little darling’s five minutes of fame on the evening news – just five people got hauled before the courts. Yup, that’s five out of 400 or so. And didn’t they look repent, with one in particular offering the press outside the court a pleasant little one-fingered salute? Nice.

So there you have it, folks. The doctors and lawyers of tomorrow, hurling abuse at officers of the law before heading off for a little kip in the nearest flowerbed.

Think of the violence we’ve seen in the name of culture – the years spent arguing about the rights and wrongs of each and every section of the community displaying their “culture”. You’d think we were the most culturally rich country in the world.

So what does our “culture” consist of? Well, you’d be forgiven if you thought it was drinking, setting things on fire and throwing bricks at anyone in uniform.

Culture? I’ve seen more culture in a yoghurt. Happy St Patrick’s Day.

The 2009 'celebrations'

Shhhh!

Shhh!

So the England football team’s been bugged?

What’s the worst anyone could find out – that their chances of World Cup glory are shot to pieces?

If ever there’s been a clear case needed to prove that sportsmen earn too much money – surely that team is it … Sleaze and scandal at every turn.

And now there’s an ongoing row about whether the WAGs should be allowed to set up camp as close as they intend to, to where the footballers themselves will be staying – even with distraction accusations aside, I’d have thought with John Terry on the prowl, close at hand would be the last place the players would want their significant others …

Reality bites

Big Brother is watching you

Anyone else think it’s weird how messed up we’ve become with our attitude to reality?

In a nutshell, we treat the lives of others like some kind of soap and soaps like they were real – is it some kind of coping mechanism? We can’t handle life at such a fast pace, so we’ve resorted to some permanent kind of escapism?

Seriously, people are so invested in television shows and characters who aren’t real – they share their highs and lows, cry at their on-screen deaths and woe betide the scriptwriter who kills off a fan favourite! Viewers will complain loudly and frequently – to Ofcom even. Ooh, bet that’s got those damn writers shaking in their boots!

If it all happened on their own doorstep though, they wouldn’t – and often don’t – bat an eyelid.

People spend their evenings sitting around their living room, watching people sitting around their living room – but it’s okay because it’s a “valid social experiment”. Is it hell! It’s just another way to blur the boundaries between fiction and reality.

We treat celebrities in much the same way – like they aren’t real people with actual feelings. It’s very easy for us to sit on the sidelines of a collapsing marriage, baying for blood, when we’re not the ones dealing with the heartbreak. We’re happy to just watch it play out like another soap opera.

So happy in fact that we’ll even get in on the act. Got some dirty laundry? Get it on Jeremy Kyle! You get your problem solved and entertain the nation at the same time. It’s the kids at the centre of those paternity tests I feel sorry for – I wonder if they’ll get a dvd later in life to show them mummy and daddy’s five minutes of “fame” …

When did we get so happy to sit back and watch other people get a life instead of getting one of our own?!

Generation Y

Instant?

 

Everything’s gotta be faster these days.

We’ve got the world at our fingers tips – online shopping, banking, entertainment … you name it, we don’t want to leave our house to do. We want our news breaking and our downloads instant.

Everything’s designed these days for maximum speed, ease of use and convenience . To save us time and effort.

So excuse me while I go check my two email accounts, my facebook, bebo and myspace, my two blogs and my bank account – then I really should get to work …

Why the mystery?

Behind bars

A person has been jailed and no one knows why.

No one will tell us what the person did wrong. Why? No one knows.

We want to know. Why?

Because that person used to be 10-year-old Jon Venables. Used to be because he’s been given a new identity. Because in 1993, he and another 10-year-old – Robert Thompson – killed toddler James Bulger in England.

The 2-year-old was abducted from a shopping centre, tortured and left to die on a railway line. The enduring image of the media coverage was that trusting little boy being led away by the hand by his killers.

Venables and Thompson only just reached the age of legal responsibility. They were both sentenced to life for murder – but they were released in 2001. The usual ban on not identifying those under 18 was lifted during their trial due to the seriousness of the crime – but the judge then felt that put them at risk and granted them both new identities.

No one knows who they now are or where they’ve been.

Keeping schtum

Venables though is back behind bars for breaching the terms of his release. And despite calls for the details to be released, the government’s keeping schtum.

James Bulger’s mum’s reaction to the initial news doesn’t suggest he’s broken the term which prevents him contacting his victim’s family.

And the fact only Venables is back in jail suggests he hasn’t broken the term preventing him from contacting his fellow killer, Thompson.

So has he returned to Merseyside? Or has he merely broken some minor details about reporting regularly to the authorities?

We simply don’t know. Yet.

Should we though? Are we entitled to know – or should he be allowed to live his life in anonymity, to start over?

James Bulger doesn’t get another chance at life. Neither does his family.

Debate

The debate raging, both now and in previous years, centres on the age at which children can be held responsible for their actions.

Venables was only 10 when he killed an innocent 2-year-old. Had a propensity for violence shown itself before that? Were signs missed? Could something, anything, have been done to change him before it was too late?

And what if he had been younger, even just a year younger? Is it right that he wouldn’t have been prosecuted for something so terrible?

But in the meantime, the most pressing question remains what he’s done now to find himself back inside. And whether it will suggest he should never have been released in the first place.

Why giving up chocolate for Lent is a bad idea

Easter Bunny

It’s a good job there’s such a loooong sell-by date on chocolate, those damn “Easter” eggs have been in the shops since January! And think of the suffering of those poor fools who gave up chocolate for Lent – eyeballing shelves and shelves of chocolatey goodness for weeks without being allowed to … Oh I’m sorry, were you one of them?

See, this is why I don’t do Lent – giving up is for quitters and I’m no quitter.

We all complain about shops getting ahead of themselves – rushing us into buying kids new school uniforms before they even get off classes for summer, christmas cards by August and … you get the idea.

But shops aren’t renowned for focusing on shoppers’ opinions – it’s their cash they’re after.

So who the hell is buying these Easter eggs in January to make stores think this is the way things should be?!

I’m complaining about it – a lot of you are complaining about it. So stop bloody doing it!

Don’t fall for the marketing ploys – stick two fingers up to organisation and maybe this year we won’t hear a Christmas song until at least November. Preferably after Guy Fawkes Night, but we won’t ask for miracles.

Getting the claws out …

The Dolls

Pussycat Dolls

 

So the showbiz world has been rocked by the news two of the Pussycat Dolls are quitting.

Which two, you ask? Um … the blonde one and … the other blonde one. Miiiiaow!

No seriously, I like the Pussycat Dolls - they’re hardly heavyweights of the music industry (literally as well as figuratively), but they can bang out a good tune to get you on the dancefloor and I don’t buy into this notion that they’re bad role models.

So they sometimes look like they’ve forgotten to put nine-tenths of their outfit on – if you had it, you’d flaunt it too. And come on, their penchant for hardcore dance routines could do with rubbing off on some of the kids of today. No one wants to promote being too body conscious at a young age or being too skinny – but with many kids plugged into their X-Boxes like they were life-support machines, getting them dancing around would be a vast improvement. (Parental supervision reccommended just in case the moves end up vaguely reminiscent of an out of work pole dancer. I’m just sayin’ …)

But seriously, two of them are calling it a day – Kimberly Wyatt and Ashley Roberts, or the judge of that dancing show and … yeah, I dunno either.

Imagination

Kimberly says “money and fame can’t buy happiness” – which suggests the girl, at not even 30, has very little imagination.

Ashley says she’s ”learned so much” – which suggests infinitely more imagination.

In today’s fickle world of fame, will we even notice they’re gone? Or will they simply be replaced, Sugababe-style, while the PCD brand machine rolls on?

I suspect the latter. But “lead singer” Nicole Scherzinger should take note after all these rumours about a rift around her top-cat status – even the original Sugababe had to succumb to the revolving door. No one’s bigger than the brand.

Toxic love

Toxic love

Fickle, fickle, fickle.

What is it about us humans that makes us get a kick of building someone up, only to tear them back down?

And for some reasons, Brits in particular are in a league of their own when it comes to knocking someone off their pedestal. It’s practically a national sport.

Need we look any further than the much-maligned Kerry Katona? Anyone else remember when she was the fun one out of Atomic Kitten everyone liked? Thought not. Those days are gone and now she’s just a joke.

While she stuck by that money grabbing partner of hers, it was hard to sympathise – a lot of her trouble was brought on herself. But why do some people seem to relish her misfortune with such glee?

It was great when she was the girl from a rough council estate who made it big. But as soon as she made it big … someone decided she needed bringing down a peg or two.

Lets look at another example – Nicola Roberts.

Flak

Now there’s a girl who’s put up with a lot of flak. Relegated to being branded “the ginger one” from Girls Aloud, she was very much in the shadows of her bandmates – when she wasn’t the butt of the jokes.

Then she turned it around – simply by being much more interesting than the Cheryls and Nadines of this world. She ditched the near-compulsory fake tan, embraced the English rose look, launched a make-up line for others of a similar persuasion and became something of a fashionista. And people loved it – the underdog triumphs, woohoo!

But oh dear, Nicola, did no one warn you that the public loves an underdog – but once you’ve faked it ’til you’ve made it, you’re no longer the underdog and that makes you fair game. Again.

Now she’s having to defend her weight and have the style that was once admired for being both personally created and a refreshing change from the over-styled Cheryl knocked on a routine basis.

Are our neighbours across the pond any different though?

Hollywood

Well … a little. There seems to be a smidge more respect for celebrity – the influence of Hollywood perhaps? Or perhaps more to do with the lack of real Z-listers Stateside – no influx of Page 3 models or WAGs over there, thank you very much.

Although the fall from grace can be no less spectacular. In fact, when it goes wrong for a bigger star, it’s all the more shocking. We’ve come to expect our Brit Z-listers to hit rough times when the 15 minutes of fame fades away and leaves debt and addictions in its wake. But we expect more from the A-listers.

Britney Spears – who’d have though the fresh-faced, squeaky clean, popstar would become such a tabloid staple? And a twice-married mum-of-two before hitting the big 3-0?

Is anyone rooting for her to turn it around though? Not yet. Not while her lows are proving so entertaining to the cruel world who put her on the very pedestal she fell from. She’ll get there though – underdog status will win her a new support base. Just don’t expect them to stick around to enjoy the highs, Brit. With “fans” like that, who needs enemies?

Seems like sometimes the only way to win is to lose. They say God loves a trier – God help you if you actually succeed though.

Life in the fast lane

Pop's Princess

Cheryl Cole

Life in the fast lane.

If ever proof was needed that celebrities live in their own little world, surely the latest relationship ups and downs of some of our stars is it.

“Overnight” sensations, 15 minutes of fame – celebrity life is fast paced and often vastly at odds with normality, where people struggle for years to achieve their dreams. Or more often, just struggle along and make do.

But while that might have its positives – hurtling from obscurity to the giddy heights of the bright lights – what goes up must come down.

In an instant, the golden girl or boy can find themselves out of favour or even with their whole enviously wonderful life reduced to tatters.

Pitfalls

So do they do anything to guard against the pitfalls of celebrity status, to ensure they stay secure in their privileged position? Um, that would be a no.

Just as they can shoot to stardom, they can plunge into self-destruct mode at the drop of a hat.

Take our celebrity couples. The marketability of two stars united can be formidable, a pairing made in tabloid heaven.

But if and when it all goes wrong, do our not-so happy couple go their separate ways with a hefty dose of once-bitten-twice-shy? Also a no.

In the real world when a serious relationship ends, it’s messy and painful and those affected can take a long time to heal. No so in Celeb-Land.

Take a look at front-page faves, Katie Price and Peter Andre. Their initial pairing up, fresh out of the reality show jungle, seemed like an unmistakeable quest for yet more publicity. Fast forward and they’re proving the doubters wrong, married with kids and looking rock solid. Zip forward again and it’s all gone wrong.

But so far, so normal. These things happpen and perhaps it’s reassuring to know celebrities with their seemingly perfect lives aren’t immune to the sufferings of we mere mortals.

Baggage

However, while we would gather up our newly acquired baggage of a failed relationship – all the more complex if marriage and children are involved – and nurse a broken heart for a considerable length of time, perhaps taking years to acquire the necessary trust in another human being to give relationships another chance, not so our celeb counterparts.

Oh no, they rattle through the grief and anger stages hell for leather and before you know it, they’re on to the next “meaningful” pairing.

Mere months after their divorce, Katie Price is already on her next husband and talking about more children. Peter Andre seemed to think he was entitled to sainthood status after declaring quite vehemently that he’d be staying celibate until after his divorce – turns out the ink was barely dry until he was getting intimately acquainted with a blonde who “cared” so much about him, she spilled her guts to the first tabloid to show willing. Such betrayal from someone he obviously shared such a “meaningful” connection with, say it ain’t so!

No reason to judge though, what two consenting single adults do where and when is their own business – but wouldn’t it be refreshing to see celebs get smart about it? Gee, hopping into bed with the first cash-hungry wannabe hoping for some reflected glory didn’t work out so well, huh? Lesson for the future, no? Uh, you’d think.

But no, celebs seem happy to zip through the major landmarks of life at breakneck speed and then wonder why it all went pear-shaped. Who in the real world meets someone, falls in “love”, gets married and has kids in the space of a year or less?

Well, actually – I can think of a few. But it only proves my point. 99 percent of the time, it doesn’t work in the real world – so what hope could such a lifestyle possibly have under the glare of the camera flashes?

It seems though that for all the trappings of celebrity, some of our famous faces are desperate to hold on to the semblances of normality.

Trying to make a failing marriage work rather than jumping on the divorce wagon at the first hurdle may seem commendable – especially in the celebrity world where trading a partner in for a new one seems routine practice – but sometimes you have to wonder who they’re trying to kid.

Take Cheryl Cole for example. The girl’s got everything (well, almost – she could do with finding someone to teach her how to lip-synch) – looks, money, career. Yet for too long she clung on to C’Ashlay Cole – despite tabloid humilation and much advice to the contrary from friends and family.

Now she’s given him the boot – or has she? Apparently she’s considering giving him “fair hearing”, although mentor Simon Cowell may have averted that particularly crisis with a well-timed “Think of yourself, kiddo”.

Only time will tell whether the pop princess will stick to her guns. But in the meantime, maybe Mr Cowell could have a quiet word with Cheryl’s fellow wag, Toni Poole …

Poor Toni’s judgement seems to have gone right out the window. Although at least we can be thankful the girl had the sense not to take her husband’s name – Toni Terry, it just doesn’t have a ring to it. Unfortunately for Toni though, there is a ring involved …

Lifestyle

Married to her childhood sweetheart and serial love-rat, John Terry, Toni’s been blinded by the WAG lifestyle and she ain’t giving it up. She married her man for better or worse and can it get much worse than his numerous affairs – including the classy hook-up with his best friend and team mate’s partner? Ouch.

Hard done by Wayne Bridge is devastated by the betrayal – so much so he’s voluntarily binned his chances of playing for England in the World Cup because he can’t bear to play in the same team as the man responsible for his heartbreak.

So that’s the wronged best friend’s response – what of the equally wronged, already long-suffering, wife?

Lets be fair to Toni, she met and fell for her man before he became a top footballer – so maybe she’s not in it for the lifestyle. Doesn’t that make it worse though? She’s stuck by him through everything and this is her reward? The national shame of having her dirty laundry aired in public?

But maybe she is her own worst enemy. It doesn’t make it right but, while she lets him off the hook time and time again, of course he’ll keep letting her down. But she’s clinging on for grim death when she should be getting the hell out as fast as her Manolo Blahniks will carry her.

Unlike Cheryl though, Toni doesn’t have a career to keep her in the limelight for her own merits. She may not have expected the fame and riches she’s acquired through the husband she calls her “soulmate”, but giving them up now she’s got ‘em doesn’t seem to be an option she’s considering.

What happened to the days when girls dreamed of meeting a handsome doctor? When did footballers become the dream goal – especially when it so rarely works out?

Would you really want to be shackled to Ashley Cole? John Terry? Surely if these two end up back on the market, any girl would have to be insane to take them on – but lets wait and see, somewhere there’s a WAG-in-waiting already bidding her time and making room in her wardrobe for a newly acquired designer shoe collection.

What price happiness, you ask? Start by sending me a Fendi handbag and I’ll let you know when I’m getting close …

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