Do you know what my life was missing this morning? Do you know what I needed? I needed to know what a couple of celebrity people playing Scrabble looks like. You see, there would otherwise have been a gaping Scrabble/celebrity-shaped void in my life; I may well have completely lost touch with reality, had I not been exposed to the sight of a couple of relatively famous people playing Scrabble. Thank goodness for that. No, thank fuck for that. Thank Jesus, Allah, Moses and everyone for that. Now my life is complete and I can continue along my merry way, knowing that a couple of fucking people, whom I will never meet and who will never impact on me in any way whatsoever, have decided to play a game of Scrabble while they're on holiday. Did you know that? Were you aware of that? Did it ever occur to you that people might play board games while they're on holiday? No, probably not. I guess you imagined that other people's lives were largely dull and tedious affairs in which Scrabble played a relatively minor role, only dusting off the box for those quiet Sunday afternoons, that long cavernous spell between Sunday dinner and Howard's Way - you know, that vast stretch of tedious, ponderous time spent slumped in a food-stuffed haze drooling down your polo shirt while falling asleep to the Grand Prix. Time for Scrabble? You bet it is! Or possibly Monopoly, though in my house that went on for weeks at a time and I tended to get bankrupt fairly early on, a harbinger of what was to follow, if truth be told. But no, let's stick with Scrabble. Or Trivial Pursuit. You know, something like that. A cheerful enough pastime. Something to whittle away those lazy hours, exercise the brain a bit, and besides, there's always the chance of slapping down the word 'minge' or 'buttocks' in front of your granny and making her reach ever more furtively for the schooner of Harveys Bristol Cream.
I digress. I often do. It's a way of delaying the inevitable, which in our case is a visit to that Titan of newsgathering skill and investigative journalism that is the Daily Mail. Fresh from meandering around the vital subject of Britney Spears's legs, as we discussed earlier, they're now chuntering on about celebrity lady love, between talent-free film popsicle Lindsay Lohan and her new girlfriend, who is some kind of DJ or other, hairy cornflake or annoying the hell out of you while you're trying to have a conversation in a pub; you know the drill.
Hey, and do you know what? Because I'm feeling a bit crazy-mad, I'm going to actually start linking to the Mail again. I was a bit puzzled by their somewhat bizarre decision to ward off allcomers and basically say "If you don't like this website, turn ye back! Go back, young varlet! Bid ye go!" to their readers, but I think I should largely put them down to being a bunch of fucking incompetent numbskulls who don't really understand the internet in the slightest, but who can blame them? It didn't exist in the 1950s, when the world was so much better, when spousal abuse was largely tolerated by the population, when people who hated each other stayed together in miserable marriages for the sake of the kids, when there was rationing and people were half-starving and living in bombed-out slums - you know, when everything was just as the Mail would like it to be again. But you could leave your back door open! You could, because you didn't fucking have anything of any value worth stealing, and thieves were too emaciated themselves to lift anything heavier than a teapot.
I'm digressing yet again. I feel I'm letting you down in some kind of way, but I'll struggle on. Lindsay Lohan and her girlfriend have gone to the beach in Mexico and they've played some Scrabble.
Love is... a triple word score for Lindsay Lohan and girlfriend Samantha on their romantic beach break
What? Love is a triple word score? What the fuck are you on about, man? Love is ON a triple word score, maybe? Bit of a waste to have such a short word on a triple, mind, even though you do get a few more points for the V. But there you are. I'm not really here to talk about Scrabble, though I admit I may have done so a few paragraphs ago.
Anyway, nice for the women concerned, no? Well yes, I should imagine it's very nice for someone else to be on holiday. Not being on holiday, and not having been on holiday since early May, I've kind of forgotten what holidays feel like. I assume having a nice game of Scrabble in the sun by the beach is rather a pleasant experience - more pleasant, indeed, even than trying to get someone out to fix the gutter in wet and blustery Bristol - and, in a sense, I'm a bit envious. I imagine, though, it would be even nicer if there wasn't some cunt with a camera lurking in the bushes taking pictures of you for sniping little turds on a website to make fun of. Speaking as a sniping little turd myself, I can see the attraction in being one, but I try not to be as misanthropic and bitter as some of these folk:
PLEASE put up a warning before you show any more bikini-clad Samantha Ronson photos.
- B, SF USA, 1/10/2008 3:07
This all seems like another 'phase' Lindsey is going through just for the attention. She needs to wake up and realise she's not sure who she is, what she wants to be or what she wants out of her life. Her mother should sit her down for a little talk that seems long over due.
- Rose, UK, 1/10/2008 3:18
A woman being in a relationship with a woman = 'a phase'.
It's so nice to see Lindsay looking happy and and at peace, in a stable relationship, out of the LA whirl. Samantha is clearly good for her. I'm rooting for those two. Too bad the paparazzi couldn't let them have their privacy - those pictures must have been taken from a boat at quite a distance.
- TC, New York City, US, 1/10/2008 3:20
Oh yes, there's a point. A boat maybe, and not just a man in a bush.
These two ladies typify the current youth culture: Self-pampering, affluent, lack of work ethic, being "different".
- Old blue, California, USA, 1/10/2008 5:50
What? Both have jobs, as far as I'm aware. All right so they're not down the coal mine, but they're earning money. And being 'different' - what? Playing Scrabble on the beach? Or having sex with each other? I don't think anyone does that to be 'different' - do they?
As long as they are happy, contented and harming nobody, we, as human, should be happy for them.
- IEM, Romford, 1/10/2008 6:07
Compassion in the Mail?
Ooh, shock horror! LESBIAN lovers, eh? How about just "lovers"? Would you have mentioned a couple's skin colour? No, I guess not. This is the 21st century and people can love whomever they want. Leave them alone and stop gawping at them as though they're some kind of free-for-all freak show.
Good luck to them both.
- Jem, London, UK, 1/10/2008 9:19
Political correctness in the Mail?
we already know they are together so it's there really any need to start the article with the word "Lesbians"? That's a cheap shot not worth of what I thought was a reputable newspaper...
- jane Ferns, London Uk, 1/10/2008 9:58
Anti-Mail comments in the Mail? But isn't it odd that some bloke, possibly fresh out of college, writing extended photo captions for bollocks pap picture stories, is allowed to be criticised by readers - yet a £700,000 a year columnist, a supposedly fearless writer of repute, has to have negative comments removed from stories?
what the hell is a "boyish dark coloured bikini"?? as far as I am aware boys do not wear bikinis of any colour!
- graham, lancs, 1/10/2008 13:03
Oh, there are boys that do, Graham, but I see your point. I think the Mail are just trying to paint Samantha as 'the man'.
Do they really allow lesbians on beaches these days?
What is the world coming to?
- Dave P, London, England, 1/10/2008 13:06
Ha ha! Marvellous. Compassion, kindness and politically correct views... they're all to be found at the Mail - just not in the news section.
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Hello. I'm a Bristol-based writer and soon-to-be-redundant journalist. You can read more about me and the Enemies site here, or follow me on Twitter. Email me if you like - antonvowl at live dot co dot uk
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